


In Beautiful Dreams

by Ladyfiaran



Series: Sol Duga [4]
Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24164674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyfiaran/pseuds/Ladyfiaran
Summary: Olga finds herself falling for her rescuer Ian Sutherland, finding him to be one of the most fascinating people she has ever met. Ian is impressed that she is fearless and intelligent, in contrast to the girls his sister keeps setting up on dates with. Will this meeting of the minds and wills last?
Relationships: Olga Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Sol Duga [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/793182
Comments: 16
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Ian got in the driver's side of the car and turned on the engine. "I just got my bike back from the mechanic's, I hope the weather holds out so I can do some riding", he said.

"What riding?", asked Alexei.

"I have a motorbike and I go riding with my little group, the Kingfishers. It's a group of my mates who served with me in India, we meet up and ride out into the country for a reunion once a year. Last year we went to the Peak District", Ian replied.

"Wow, awesome!", Alexei exclaimed.

"And there's a good chance you can break all your bones, Ian", teased Skye.

"I could get injured in a car accident, Mamucia. And motorbikes are safe if you wear your helmet and obey the speed limit", he said.

Olga just smiled at their banter. Her face suddenly grew warm at the idea of Ian riding a motorbike, remembering the time they had visited the Stavka at Mogilev and one of the officers had ridden his motorcycle. The officer was so proud of his bike and cut a dashing figure in his duster and boots, much to their delight. She wondered if Ian would be as dashing on his motorcycle as she willed herself not to blush.

Ian felt vaguely restless and irritated at having to drive the car, wanting to get back on his Triumph and meet his friends. He wondered if Olga would want to ride with him since Skye refused and other women he'd dated were terrified of the bike, hoping he wouldn't be disappointed.

"Ian, what's it like to ride a motorbike?", asked Alexei.

"Freedom, open air. But you're too young, you have to be at least sixteen to ride a motorbike and get your license. I learned to ride in India since the roads aren't very good and cars are impractical unless one is a rich bloke with a driver. And they're not dangerous, if you obey the rules", said Ian.

"I have to ask Mama and Papa, since I'm not sick anymore", said Alexei.

They arrived back at the house and Ian parked the Morris outside the garage next to a large object with a black tarpaulin on top. "That's my baby, my bike. I keep her under wraps so she doesn't get dusty", he said.

Olga looked at the tarp and could make out the shape of the motorcycle. "I suppose that's sensible, but odd", she mused aloud.

"Do you want to see, Olivia?", he asked.

Olga nodded and watched as Ian carefully took off the tarp to reveal a handsome shiny blue Triumph motorcycle which shined from a recent waxing. "It's beautiful!", she gasped.

"Thank you, she's my baby. I bought her two years ago, I bought her brand new from the lot. My previous one was used. And this I had customized", he said, pointing to the Macedonian star and the bright blue Kingfisher on the gas tank.

"That's for your club?", she asked.

"Yes, Kingfishers are a common bird in India, where we all met. We're not like those barmy gangs you seen in the states that bother people and frighten folks, we take trips to national parks or other areas in Britain. Let me show you something", he said.

Ian reached atop a shelf and took down a shiny dark red helmet and a pair of wraparound shades. "Try them on, I got these for Skye but she refuses to get on my bike", he said

Olga looked over at the helmet and saw that it had a large hole on the bottom. Ian helped her to put it on and adjust at the straps, followed by the sunglasses. "Perfect fit, Olivia", he said approvingly.

"Really, I suppose one can get used to it", she said, taking off the helmet and shades.

"You will, it's not safe to ride without a helmet. The glasses are to protect your eyes from the sun and to prevent dust and you can ride behind me", he said.

Olga suddenly grew very warm and her face turned bright red as she looked closely at the motorcycle. "Behind you?", she squeaked.

"Yes, just hold on tight", he said.

"To what?", she whispered.

"Me", he replied simply.

Olga giggled nervously and didn't realize she could turn even redder but she did. The idea of sitting behind Ian and holding him while riding the motorcycle made butterflies dance a polka in her stomach and her heart race, her cheeks bright pink. "So that's a yes, then? Other girls were terrified of the bike, which is why I haven't had a girlfriend", he said.

"Are they daft?", she asked in disbelief.

"They're scared of an accident, plus bikers are seen as barmy folks. If the weather is decent, I'll take you out for a ride tomorrow", he said.

"I hope so", she replied as the blush still remained on her cheeks.

Ian just laughed and gave her a wink as he took back into the house. Alexei had turned on the TV and was watching the Manchester United game against Burnley, a rerun from earlier in the season. He was sprawled out on the couch with his spindly limbs spread out as he watched the screen. "You ought to ask Juan to take you to Old Trafford, watching football on the telly isn't as good", said Ian.

"All right. So should I support United or City?", he asked.

"United, City are rubbish", said Ian.

"I'm making chicken curry for supper, do you want it hot?", asked Skye from the kitchen.

"Yes," said Ian.

"Do you need help?", asked Olga.

"Sure, you can help me", said Skye.

Ian settled in to watch the game while Olga went to the kitchen. Skye wore an apron tied around her slim waist and a white t-shirt and jeans, her blond hair in a braid pinned up under a kerchief. "Let me put up your hair, so it doesn't get in the food", she declared.

Skye pinned up Olga's hair and had her wash her hands. "I put a lot of vegetables along with chicken to add nutrients and soak up extra salt and spices. I deboned the chicken earlier and marinated in spices before putting it in the fridge", she said.

Olga watched as Skye removed a red plastic bowl from the fridge and opened the lid to place the chicken in the pot. "It gives the chicken more taste that way", she explained.

Skye showed her a wooden cutting board and a knife and pointed to the carrots, celery and onions. "Cut the tops off the carrots and celery and dice the onion into cubes, I put the onions in cold water so they don't make you cry", she explained.

Olga took a deep breath and gingerly held up the knife. She carefully cut the carrots and celery before taking a moment to figure out how to cut up the onion. She frowned and mentally calculated how to cut it up in chunks, then nodded. Olga cut the onion in half and then in quarters as she sliced the quarters lengthwise then across, this way producing chunks of onion of about the same cubed size. "Brilliant job, Olivia", said Skye approvingly.

"I just figured it would be the most efficient way, cut something into smaller parts and work from there", she replied.

Olga put all the vegetables in the pot and watched as Skye took out a large metal box. She opened the lid to reveal seven small bowls of dried leaves, spices and stems. "This is a spice box, Ian got it at the Indian market. The one in the middle is cloves and cinnamon, some cardamom pods. Think of it as a painter's palate", she said.

Olga was fascinated as Skye took one of the little boxes of an orange-yellow powder and took off the lid. "This is turmeric which makes food yellow, it's mild. The red one is chili powder, then going clockwise its garam masala, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, coriander and black pepper. And the red dried ones are chilies. Do you want it spicy?", asked Skye.

"I suppose, I did like the curry from the lunch takeout but I thought Indian food was spicier", replied Olga.

"Good, Ian and I like it spicy but many restaurants tone down the spices since many Brits don't like it hot. I have more of the spices in bottles, but this is more convenient", said Skye.

Olga watched as Skye used a teaspoon to carefully add a mix of spices into the pot, along with two chilies. "I add some oil and cook until the chicken is brown, then I add water and cook it like a stew. An hour before supper I make the rice", said the blond girl.

"In that horrid house, the cook showed us how to make bread rolls. I'm afraid that's the extent of my cooking skills", said Olga apologetically.

"You'll learn, the way through a man's heart is through his stomach", teased Skye.

Olga blushed. "I know Ian likes you, Olivia Parker. I'm glad, most girls aren't interested in him. They freak out when they find out he's a Hindu and they think being a professor is dull. You don't think he's odd or crazy and you're actually interested in him and his work", said Skye.

"Ian is a fascinating man, so very intelligent. It's wonderful to be able to talk about history and jazz and things, not men who are terrified of speaking with a Grand Duchess", said Olga as her blue eyes turned bright with passion.

"Then I give you my blessing, Olivia Parker. Even to go riding on that bloody motorbike", said Skye with a laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

After they added water to the pot to simmer, Olga left the kitchen. Alexei was still sprawled out on the couch watching the game but Ian was gone as she grew worried. "He's in his office, he has to type out the syllabuses for his class. That's the stuff the students have to do", he said, not looking up from the screen. 

"Alex, you ought to look at people when you talk to them", chided Olga.

"Sorry, Olenka. Oh, and he left some books in your room if you're interested", he said.

Olga nodded and went upstairs to her room. The door to Ian's study under the stairwell was closed and she could hear rapid typing as the steady click-clack of typewriter keys echoed in the stairwell. She smiled when she entered her room and saw the two books on her nightstand along with a handwritten note:

Mara kamala khilyuim,

I thought you would like to read these, they're both English translations from the originals but in verse rather than prose. If you want, I have them in prose if you can't understand them.

Ian

The first was a paperback translation of Bhavagad Gita with a handsome blue cover. The other was an English translation of the Bibliotheca Historia by Diodorus Siculus, the cover showing the famous mosaic of Alexander the Great from Pompeii. Olga decided to start with Diodorus as she set aside the other book. Before she started to read, Olga carefully took out a Dave Brubeck record from the shelf and placed on the turntable and turned it on before she started to read.

Ian finished typing up the last syllabus and stapled the papers together, wondering if this is how medieval monks felt after copying a manuscript. He arranged the syllabi into a pile on his desk which would later go into his briefcase, sighing as he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His fingers were stiff as he reached into his desk and took out a bag of glass marbles, rolling them around in his fingers to ease the stiffness.

Ian was glad that he'd already submitted his lesson plans earlier in the week. His gaze fell upon the diplomas on the opposite his desk, the BA in History from the University of Leeds, his Masters from the same and his Doctorate from the University of Durham. He chuckled at all the hard work involved and his current position as the head of Ancient History at the University of Manchester, the youngest in the university's history. Next to the degrees were his graduation photos from Durham, his black gown adorned with gold cords and cape given to all Doctors of Letters. Flanking him were his parents and Skye as he flashed a V for Victory sign and grinned ear to ear.

Ian felt his fingers weren't as stiff so he put the marbles back and opened another drawer. He took out a bottle of Talisker and a tumbler from another drawer and poured himself a glass before putting back the bottle. The amber color of the whisky shone in the light of the office in an attractive mellow golden brown color as he swirled it around the glass before taking a sip.

Ian poured himself another drink and got up from his desk before leaving the office. The scent of chicken curry from the kitchen made his mouth water as he went upstairs. He paused in front of Olga's room and was pleased to see her reading the Diodorus book, Brubeck on the record player. Her blond hair was coming loose from her braid and wispy curls framed her face as she idly pushed them away and continued reading. "This is very good, I wasn't familiar with Diodorus and I was concerned about reading verse but no worries", she said.

"Good, Diodorus is one of the more accessible historians of the ancient world", he said. His gaze fell to her bare feet and her pale pink toenails as his mouth suddenly went dry, taking a hasty sip of whisky. "If it's not a bother, would you like some whisky? It's Talisker from the island of Skye", he asked.

"All right, I don't want to give myself eyestrain", she replied as she set down the book and inserted a bookmark.

Ian was disappointed when Olga put on pink fuzzy slippers, vowing he would get rid of the ugly dust collectors. "It's in my office, you can always check out my library", he said.

Olga followed him into the office and a little thrill went through her when she saw they were alone. She looked at the books on his shelves and saw that many were on ancient history, India, and medieval England, but no novels or modern paperbacks. "I don't like much fiction, Skye is the fiction reader in the family", he said.

Ian took out a bottle of whisky and another tumbler, pouring the amber liquid into the glass and refilling his own. "This is Talisker, from Skye up in Scotland. This I drink straight, I use Famous Grouse for mixing cocktails", he said, handing her a glass.

Olga felt a tiny shiver go through her when she accepted the glass and their fingers briefly touched. She looked down at the amber liquid and took a tiny sip. "It tastes smoky", she said dubiously.

"I'm sorry, you're supposed to take a bigger sip and hold it in for a few seconds. Just try it", he said.

Olga nodded and took a larger sip, letting the whisky sit on her tongue for a moment before swallowing it. "It tastes different, but not bad. I can still taste the smoke", she said.

"That's why I don't smoke, it destroys your senses of taste and smell. Which is why I like Scotch, it has more flavor than Irish whiskey" he said.

"I suppose it takes on the characteristics of where it's made, like if the grain was grown near the sea it would have a salty taste", she said.

"Exactly, Talisker's grain is grown in an area with a lot of heather, so it would take on a floral taste in addition to the grains roasted using peat. Our parents went to Skye for their honeymoon and liked it so much they gave us Scottish names", he said.

"I thought you were from Yorkshire", she teased.

"I am, the Yorkshire branch of the Sutherlands. The other half is the Scottish branch up in the Highlands, they got the earldom. The Yorkshire branch is a barony, our uncle has got it with the House of Lords seat and all. I don't want the trouble, I don't want t'go down t'London to deal with the wankers", he said.

"Your accent is lovely", said Olga.

Ian just laughed. "After a drink my accent comes out, I speak the Queen's English whilst lecturing at uni but at home I speak Yorkshire", he said.

"Our English tutor Mr. Gibbes was from Yorkshire, but he spoke very proper English. I rather like your accent, it's different", said Olga as she took another sip of whisky.

"Our accent is pleasant, the Mancs and Scousers have got terrible accents. Not posh people, but the locals. The Beatles at least have Scouse accents one can understand, otherwise it's hard on the ears", said Ian.

Olga nodded in understanding. Her attention was drawn to the framed diplomas on the walls and the photos. "Those are my degrees, my BA, my Masters, and my Doctorate. The first two I got at the University of Leeds and the Doctorate is from Durham", he said.

Ian set down the drink and climbed a stepladder to get the framed diplomas. Olga could see the flex of his back muscles underneath his t-shirt and an odd fluttery feeling formed in her belly at the sight. "I'll show you, BA means Bachelor of Arts and MA is Masters", he explained.

Olga carefully set down her drink and looked down at the framed diplomas. Both were from the University of Leeds and said he had both a BA and an MA in History, and graduated Magna Cum Laude. "This is my Doctorate, a Doctor of Letters is for historians and writers", he explained.

"So you're a doctor. But not a medical one", she said.

"I'm sort of a doctor, but not a medical one. It allows me to put Doctor in front and PhD in the back, it means I'm a very smart wanker", he joked.

Olga burst into laughter. Ian was surprised at how her face transformed, the heavy mantle of seriousness which she never let go of now transformed into delighted amusement. Her cheeks were pink and her blue eyes sparkled and her pink lips turned up in a smile as he suddenly felt his heart skip a beat. "That's a funny word, wanker. But you are very smart, even if you are a wanker", she giggled.

"I'm being silly, wanker is a rude word. It means an annoying person, us Brits use that word a lot", he said apologetically.

"All right, but don't call yourself that. And don't say it in front of Alex", she teased.

Ian wondered if the whisky had made both of them silly. He put the bottle away and finished the last of his drink. "I'm hoping the weather is good tomorrow, so I can take you out on my bike", he said.

"What do I wear, trousers?", she asked.

"Some ladies wear jeans, some wear short skirts with tights underneath. I would say simple jeans and a t-shirt and boots. You can borrow one of my leather jackets, it might be long in the back but I can have one tailored for you if you want. I bought Skye a pair of motorcycle boots but she wouldn't wear them, you're about the same size", he said.

Olga finished her drink and the whisky made his words sound more intense, more than just a description of clothes. She pretended to look through his bookshelves as a distraction, the idea of riding behind Ian on his motorcycle making her feel very warm and her nerves dance. "Just hold on tight and don't let go", he murmured.


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't wait until I'm sixteen and can learn how to drive", grumbled Alexei.

"You must be patient, Alex", Olga chided.

"I'm tired of being patient, Olenka. Tessa is with Jack in the states and you're going to be riding with Ian on his motorbike. At least Pierre is taking us to the cinema, but with Mama and Papa. I don't want to go Mashka and Nastya with Skye, they're going shopping", he said in mock-horror.

"Alex, remember to use their English names. And when you're old enough, you can go on adventures and do all sorts of things. Perhaps when you go to school", said Olga.

Olga looked at her reflection in the mirror. She wore jeans and a plain white t-shirt with black motorcycle boots, the black leather reaching to just below her knees. At first she was surprised how tight the jeans were compared to her usual skirts and trousers but she had to admit it was comfortable, the boots a perfect fit. Her blond hair had been braided and pinned atop her head in a style resembling a traditional Slavic braid, held in place by a pink ribbon holding the knot closed atop her head.

Alexei followed Olga downstairs and went across the street to the Pierre's house with the rest of the family. Olga watched and made sure he went inside from the garage. "Have your neighbors said anything?", she asked.

"No, they think you're the Parker family and you're from down t'south, you're staying here until you find your own place. Us Northerners may be chatty, but we're also English and mind our own business", Ian chuckled.

Olga nodded and tried not to focus on Ian. He wore black leather trousers which hugged his slim hips and clung to his legs, topped off by a white t-shirt that showed his slightly muscled arms. Black leather motorcycle boots clung to his legs and the whole outfit fit him perfectly. "Jeans are all right, but leathers are better since they offer more protection. If you like, I could take you to buy some if you like the ride", he said.

Ian handed her the helmet and glasses along with a set of women's leather gloves. "For gripping, it's better than bare hands", he explained.

Olga put on the helmet and shades and watched as Ian put on a padded leather jacket which had a stitched Kingfisher on the back, the bird with its wings extended in brilliant blue and orange which contrasted with her own plaid black leather jacket. His helmet was a deep royal blue with a White Rose of Yorkshire on one side and a white Polish eagle on the other, the Jablonski coat of arms covering the top. "You can get a design on your helmet if you want, but not a Romanov eagle", he said.

Olga nodded in understanding. "Wait, how do you start the bike?", she asked.

Ian just grinned. He carefully took the tarp off the bike and folded it neatly, wheeling the bike out to the driveway. "Get behind me", he said.

Olga took a deep breath and sat behind him on the motorbike, her arms going around his waist. She saw that he kicked a pedal and then heard a rumbling sound as the engine gradually came to life. The unexpected sound made her yelp but she held on tightly to Ian as he rode away from the house.

Olga was tense at first but gradually relaxed when she aw they were doing the speed limit in town. Ian rode towards the motorway and carefully made his way towards the ramp, looking towards oncoming traffic. "Relax, and don't let go", he said.

Olga realized what he meant when Ian saw an opening and darted into the motorway. Her heart leaped into her throat in shock and fright but after a few minutes her heartbeat went back to normal and she relaxed slightly. Ian made sure to keep the bike at a consistent speed in the center lane as they rode on the motorway, only a few other cars on the road since it was 10 on a Tuesday morning. Olga relaxed a bit and more and lifted her gaze from the road, seeing the trees and bushes pass by on the side of the road. A blue sign on the side of the motorway said it was 106 kilometers to Morecambe as she wondered if they were going north or south.

Olga wasn't sure if she should be relieved or disappointed when they stopped at Morecambe. Ian maneuvered the bike towards a car park and stopped in front of a fence, getting off the bike. Olga watched as he reached inside the saddlebag and took out a chain with a lock, using it to secure the bike tied by the lock. He extended his hand to help her get down and removed his helmet, shaking his head. The watery northern English sunlight glinted on his sunglasses and on his blond hair as Olga hastily took off hers. "I'll show you how to secure the helmets, it's just to make sure", he said.

Ian hung their helmet from the handlebars and then secured them with a leather strap held together by a small lock. "Even if they try to steal them, the helmets wouldn't fit. Plus mine is quite distinctive. How did you like it?", he asked.

"I was nervous at first, but I grew to like it. I still have butterflies", she laughed.

Ian gave her a crooked grin. "Butterflies where?", he teased.

Olga blushed. "Uh, in m stomach", she mumbled.

"I figured as much. That's a good thing, it means you're human. I feel the same way when I'm starting the first class of the semester, since each class I've got new students. If I didn't get butterflies, then I've become jaded and ought to quit teaching", he said.

Olga nodded. "Take down your hair, Olivia. You aren't married", he teased.

Olga just laughed as she unbound her braid. A long blond braid fell nearly to her waist and swayed softly on the sea breeze. "I never thought my hair would ever be this long again", she said.

"You have lovely hair, it's just a shade darker than mine. Let's get some lunch and I'll show you around the promenade", said Ian.

Ian had parked near Morecambe Bay and the breeze from the Irish sea gave the air a tangy scent. The wooden promenade was half-full of families, retirees and tourists from the inland mill towns of Lancashire. The promenade was lined with booths selling local seafood, candy floss, sweets and things made with chips, the vendors occasionally shooing away hungry seagulls. Pop music played from transistor radios carried about by teenagers, the teens immediately turning up the volume when From Me to You by the Beatles played.

The temporary effect was to render the Beatles louder than the waves on the beach and the cawing seagulls, just a shade softer than one of their concerts. "The whole of England has gone made for the Scouse gits", said Ian ruefully.

"I don't really like them, too noisy and they look silly. I hope all pop music isn't like this", said Olga.

"No, some is all right. I really like Roy Orbison, he's a pop singer from Texas, an American. He does lovely operatic ballads and has at least a three-octave range like an opera singer. I saw him perform in Blackpool last summer, he's an odd-looking bloke with dark glasses but he can sing. I'll play some of his albums for you", he said.

Ian stopped at a stall which sold local shellfish on paper plates. "You ought to try the local cockles and whelks, mussels too. It's what Morecambe is famous for", he said.

"These are like snails, I remember", said Olga.

"Yes, and you eat them the same way. But they taste better", he laughed.

Ian bought them each a plate of cockles, whelks and mussels accompanied by vinegar and pepper along with two bottles of Coke. They sat down on a bench and Ian took out a Swiss army knife from his jacket pocket, flicking it open to reveal a bottle opener. "Best device in the world", he said.

Olga used the tiny wooden fork to take a cockle from its shell and added a bit of the vinegar. "It's very good, like escargot but not as fancy", she said.

Ian nodded as he removed a whelk from its shell. "I grew up in a seaside town, so there's cockles and whelk sellers on the promenade. I believe Yorkshire ones are the best but Lancashire ones are just as good", he chuckled.

"Are you still going on about the Wars of the Roses, Ian?", she teased.

"Yes, I'm proud of being from Yorkshire. I may live on the wrong side of t'Pennines, but I'll always be proud to be from Yorkshire", he laughed.

"I supposes, but I've never been to Yorkshire. Mama has but that was a long time ago", said Olga.

"Then I'll take you, Olivia Parker. The moors are their best in autumn when the heather is in bloom, all the hills are covered in pink and purple. When the sun is out and the sky is blue, it's really smashing", he murmured.

Olga took a hasty sip of her Coke to hide her blush since his eyes had turned a vivid green-gold. "It's a Sutherland thing, we all have green eyes with gold. Skye has hazel eyes because of Mum, but hers have the golden highlights", he explained.

"Mine are just blue, Tessa has gray eyes but all of us have blue eyes. Yours are interesting", she said.

Ian laughed. "I never had anyone say I had interesting eyes, then again that isn't something blokes get complements on", he teased.

"Then what do men get compliments on?", she asked with a grin.

"Hmm, the size of our muscles, how much money we make, if we're not completely dirty", replied Ian with a wink. He set down his plate and pulled back the sleeves of his jacket to flex the muscle as Olga laughed. "I'm not built as some blokes but I'm not bad. I also don't smoke or eat fried things", he replied as she nodded.

Ian finished his lunch and tossed the plate into a nearby garbage can. "Olivia, what is your birthday?", he asked.

Olga tried to remember what her birthday would be in the modern calendar. "Let me see, November 15, I believe", she replied.

"You're a Scorpio, then. What do you know of astrology?", he asked.

"The signs with the animals and people, but we never did that", she replied.

"It's quite popular in England and there's different types. I'm referring to the Western system. People born in late October to late November are Scorpios", he explained.

"I see. I'm not sure if being a Scorpion is a good thing", she said dubiously.

"It's not all like that, Scorpios can be either very good or very bad. They are a passionate bunch and often charismatic and magnetic, intelligent and loyal. Unfortunately, they can be moody and have a jealous streak", said Ian.

"Interesting. And what is your sign?", she asked.

"I'm a Pisces since I was born in March, people born in late February to late March are Pisceans. The symbol is two fish joined together by a string going in opposite directions. Us Pisceans are sensitive, dreamy, creative and spiritual, but also lazy and impractical and sensitive", he replied.

"Well, you have written books which means you must be creative. And you're spiritual since you converted to Hinduism. But you are not lazy at all, you have all those degrees", she protested.

"You ought to ask Skye, I'm lazy when it comes to the washing up", he laughed.

"Most men are like that", she reminded him.

"True, but Skye says I ought to learn to at least do laundry. And I tell she ought to grade my papers", he joked.

Ian offered her his hand and helped her up from the bench. The sun at midday was warmer than this morning and if they were lucky it would be a few degrees warmer than before dusk. Clouds moved lazily across the sky and seagulls grabbed stray chips and candy from near the garbage cans while people walked on the promenade. Only a handful of people were on the muddy brown sand, easily distinguished by their hip-length rubber boots and oilcloth coats. An even smaller handful were in the dull gray water, gunmetal blue-gray salt water topped with off-white foam which pounded the muddy sand relentlessly. "Crazy buggers, supposedly cold water is good for you but I'm not sure", said Ian.

"That water looks dirty as well, and that beach is mud. At least Blackpool had a sandy beach, and the beaches in France were divine", she sighed.

"I know, but even better are the beaches in Greece, or better yet, in Goa. The Greek islands have lovely beaches and many still have ancient monuments, Santorini is the best but Rhodes is good. And Goa in India, there's the native Indian culture with the Portuguese and British laid on top, plus the beaches aren't crowded. Just local families and the occasional beatnik American. I'll take you one day, Olivia", he vowed.

"Papa went to India but he didn't like it, too hot and too odd", said Olga.

"I know, India is the sort of place where one needs an open mind to enjoy it. If one goes to India thinking it to be like England, one is going to be disappointed. That goes for anywhere, even America. I've never been there, but that's what Jack said", said Ian.

"I hope they're enjoying their honeymoon", said Olga.

"I suppose, then again I'm not sure what America is like. I've been to Greece, Turkey, the Levant, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan and India but never America", he said with a rueful chuckled.

The couple spent the rest of the afternoon on the promenade watching the sea and the people. Olga had blushed at first when Ian held her hand and then put an arm around her waist but found she liked it, especially when she saw the other couples did the same. They stopped to watch as a middle-aged woman walking a Scottish terrier turned up the volume on a transistor radio as it played big band jazz, the dog barking excitedly and jumping in the air. "Aye, the lass likes the music. My hubby and I used to go dancing at the pally when he came back from the war", she said in a broad Lancashire drawl.

"I don't go out dancing, I'm awkward at it", said Ian.

"You ought to take your missus out dancing, all ladies love dancing", she admonished.

"Perhaps one day, madam", replied Ian.

"You're not a bad dancer at all", Olga chided.

"I was dancing on pure adrenalin at the Tower Ballroom, then again I prefer listening to music instead of dancing", replied Ian.

They decided to head back when the temperature began to drop and high tide started rolling in. Olga felt pleased when she put on the helmet and shades by herself without help, climbing on the back of the motorcycle. A thrill and a shiver of excitement went through her when she wrapped her arms around his waist and he started the engine, the seat vibrating slightly under her. "Hold on tight", he warned.

Olga was more relaxed than on the way up to Morecambe earlier, since she now knew what to expect and was less anxious. There was slightly more traffic going back south to Manchester but Ian kept steady in the center lane as he rode southwards, knowing she clung to him tightly and not wanting to frighten her.

Olga was disappointed when Ian exited the motorway and cruised slowly onto their street in Didsbury. He turned onto the driveway and shut off the engine before opening the garage door as Olga helped him wheel it inside. She took off her helmet and shook her hair as the braid came loose from the knot, watching as Ian carefully placed the tarp back on the bike. When he finished he took their helmets and sunglasses to put them back on the shelf. Olga felt a warm sensation spread in her belly when she saw how Ian's muscles stretched when he placed the items back on the shelf, her cheeks very pink.

Ian turned around and had a little grin on his face, his green eyes full of amusement. "Did you like the show there, mara kamala?", he murmured. He then put an arm around her waist and kissed her lips, the pressure of his lips causing hers to part. Olga moaned softly into the kiss and a thrill went straight through her when his tongue brushed against hers, a soft whimper escaping her lips when Ian broke the kiss. "I've wanted to that since this morning, mara kamala", he whispered huskily.


	4. Chapter 4

Olga tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep without her sister in the adjacent bed. With a growl of frustration she tossed back the covers and sat up in bed and shook her head as the long blond braid swayed around her body. Unlike the last time she was alone at night in the room, she knew it was permanent since Tatiana was living with Jack from now on.

Olga giggled nervously when she thought back to the kiss with Ian that afternoon. Unlike the previous times they'd kissed, it wasn't a chaste little kiss in public. Rather, it was far more passionate and it left her knees weak and her belly tingling as though she had gone down the snow mountain at Tsarkoe Selo as a little girl, the same fluttery, heart-stopping feeling.

She decided to get a glass of milk and put on a robe as she left the room. Olga was careful not to make any noise as she carefully walked down the stairs, holding onto the rail. She saw a thin silver of light under the door of Ian's office and gave the door a soft knock. To her surprise she heard the chair scrape against the floor and footsteps headed towards the door as it opened. "Couldn't sleep either, Olivia?", he teased.

"I was going to get a glass of milk but I saw the light and thought someone left the light on", she said.

"Come in, when I can't sleep I go to my office to grade papers or to read. Since the term hasn't started, I decided to read", he said.

Olga followed him into the office and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. Ian's desk had an open book on top and a silver bookmark in between the pages which glinted in the office light. Ian wore blue pajama bottoms but instead of a matching top, he wore a black velvet smoking jacket with maroon satin trim. The jacket gave him a rakish look which seemed perfect for his office with its heavy wooden furniture and book-lined shelves.

"I find it more comfortable than a regular pajama top, and they're no longer in style so I bought a bunch at the shop. Did you finish Diodorus?", he asked.

"Not yet, I had to put it down or else I would have dropped it on the floor since my eyes were tired. I ought to finish it by the end of the week", she replied.

"Good. Did you feel it too?", he asked suddenly.

Olga's breath hitched in her throat and her cheeks grew pink as she could only nod. "You liked it. You're my girlfriend but until today I didn't realize how damn sexy you are. I never had a girl ride on my bike before, they were scared of it. But not you, Olga Nicholaevna. You're fearless", he murmured.

"No, I'm not. I figured that if your motorbike is so important to you, then I ought to try it", she protested.

"But that makes you brave, mara kamala. After all that happened with you and your family, to accept what happened and your new life, and to seize the opportunity, that takes bravery. You are brave, Olivia", he said.

Ian suddenly gave her a grin, green eyes full of amusement. "What sorts of books do you see?", he asked.

"Um, history books, all hardcover with leather binding. Except this red one", she said. Indeed, the book with its red leather binding and gold letters on the spine stood out amongst the brown, green and black leather volumes.

"Take it out", he whispered softly.

Olga knew this was an order in spite of his soft words as she reached out and carefully slid the book off the shelf. The leather was still soft and the gold letters shone in the light of the office as she felt the warm leather in her hands. "Let's go to my room with the book", he said.

Olga's heart leaped into her throat and her hands shook. Ian came over and put his arms around her, holding her from behind and kissing the top of her head. "You smell of roses, white ones", he whispered.

"I do have that vase of white roses in my room, Sutherland white roses. And Mama always made sure we had our perfumes by Coty, mine was rose", she said with a nervous giggle.

"You must secretly be a Yorkshire girl, Olga Nicholaevna. Just follow me", he said softly.

Olga's heart beat rapidly and her legs felt like rubber as she followed Ian out of his office. She clutched tightly onto the book and followed him upstairs as she made sure the stairs didn't squeak and held onto the railing. Ian led her into his room and closed the door before turning on the light. "Relax", he said.

Olga tried to calm her racing heart s she looked about the room. The room was done in shades of dark brown and green with heavy oak wood furniture. The room was dominated by a dark green velvet canopy, the curtains pulled back and tied to the posts. "My grandparents had a similar bed back at their estate in Poland, I've always wanted one. Wait a moment", he said.

Olga watched as Ian opened a drawer of the nightstand and took out a bright orange box with a red dragon on the lid, a silver lighter and a green glass bowl. He opened the box and took out several dark red cones and put them in the bowl, then flipped open the lighter to ignite one of the cones. Soon a rich, amber-like scent filled the air which made her feel more calm as she sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet curled up on the carpet.

Ian put the lighter away and came over to sit down on the side of the bed next to her. "It's Dragon's Blood incense, I have different kinds and each one is good for a certain purpose", he said.

They were quiet for a moment as the scent of Dragon's Blood filled the room. Ian put an arm around her waist and his lips nuzzled her cheek. "Open the book", he whispered.

Olga opened the book as her fingers remained steady. She frowned when she saw the Hindi script, the paper heavy and glossy under her fingertips. The only sound in the room was her carefully turning the pages as she grew more confused, the pages just having Hindi script and no pictures.

After several minutes, Olga was about to close the book when she stopped. The page showed a brilliantly colored painting of a handsome, princely man and his beautiful consort kissing, the woman in a gorgeous sari of crimson silk with gold thread. "It's beautiful", she murmured.

"I know, mara kamala. Turn the page", he said.

Olga did as he said and a blush formed on her cheeks. The next page showed the couple, except that the woman was now topless. Her mouth went dry and a warm feeling grew in her belly as she flipped the page with shaky fingers. Her cheeks grew very warm when the next picture showed the man without a shirt and the woman was now naked. "Ian, what is this?", she asked, her calm voice belying her nervousness. 

"It's a Kama Sutra, a real one from India. It's a book on love, both emotional and physical. You're a brave girl, Olga Nicholaevna", he said.

"But why, this is something for married people. Have you shown this to anyone?", she asked in a accusing tone.

"No, Olivia. Only Skye knows I have one and she's my sister. The times I have been on dates, they never came close to seeing my book", he said.

"I don't know if I ought to be jealous or not", she muttered.

Ian just laughed. "Don't be, Skye set me up on dates with her coworkers at the school where she's a nurse. None of them has progressed from the first date, they're not interested in dating a university professor and they're upset when I tell them I'm a Hindu. So you're the first woman who's seen this", he said.

"Are those women daft? You're an intelligent, fascinating man", she exclaimed.

"Glad that you think so highly of me, mara kamala. Turn the page", he said.

Olga turned the page and the color left her face. The picture now showed that the man was naked as well, the woman stroking his penis. "Ah, uh, what is this?", she stammered.

"Foreplay, relax. How do you feel?", he asked.

"I don't know, jittery, shocked. I mean, I did see men at the hospital but that was in a medical setting. This is different", she said with a weak chuckle.

"Yes, that was your job. Let me show you", he whispered huskily....


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has adult content

This time Olga was prepared when Ian leaned over and kissed her. She moaned softly and her lips parted under his as his tongue found hers, his hands resting on her hips. They kissed for a few minutes until Ian broke the kiss, a her blue eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. "I didn't catch you off guard this time, Olivia", he teased.

Olga just grinned. Ian was pleasantly surprised when she kissed him, her lips applying pressure as his lips parted. He reluctantly broke the kiss and chuckled at the disappointed look on her face as he loosened the sash of her robe, carefully sliding down the robe off her shoulders. Underneath the robe she wore a simple cotton nightgown with pink ribbons, a prim Victorian style. However, he could see the swell of her breasts underneath the prim neckline of her nightgown which moved softly with every breath, a pink flush on her cheeks and around her upper chest.

Ian kissed her softly before removing his smoking jacket. Olga blushed when she saw his bare chest, a crooked grin on his face. "I know, I'm not built like Hercules, but I don't think I'm bad at all", he chuckled.

"I've seen others, but this is different", she said quietly.

"The university has a gymnasium and I work out in the mornings, one doesn't need to be out of shape to intellectual", he laughed.

Olga felt bold all of a sudden and pushed the hem of her nightgown out of the way to revel her legs. She felt a thrill of satisfaction go through her when Ian took a hasty breath as he caught a look at her legs, his gaze lingering on her pink toenails. "Don't ever wear those ugly slippers, you have such pretty feet", he murmured.

She raised an eyebrow but before she could say anything, Ian took her into his arms and kissed her. Olga sighed and her heart fluttered when she felt herself pressed against his chest, her hands splayed on his abs as she tentatively ran her fingers along his chest. Ian broke the kiss and groaned, his green eyes turned gold with desire. "Sit on my lap", he ordered.

Olga shivered at the dominant tone of his voice but then followed his command. She was still as Ian reached for the hem of her nightgown and slowly pulled it off. "Skye got you stop wearing those bloody things", he teased when he saw she didn't wear a corset.

"Of course", she retorted with a laugh.

Ian kissed her again and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. "You have pretty little breasts, Olga Nicholaevna", he whispered.

Olga felt a flash of desire go through her when Ian tossed her bra aside and his lips left hers to trail kisses along her jawline and down her throat. She shifted in his lap and a little whimper escaped her lips when Ian gently kissed each of her breasts, her fingers tangled in his hair when he began to suck on her nipples. "Oh yes", she moaned.

Ian chuckled against her breast and held her tightly, hearing her whimper when his pajama bottoms rubbed against her panty-clad bottom. Olga's eyes flew open in shock at the odd sensation as heat grew in her belly and between her legs. "Relax, mara kamala", he murmured.

Ian carefully laid her down on the bed and Olga watched as he slid the pajama bottoms down off his legs, her eyes wide in shock when she saw the bulge in front of his boxers. "Don't be alarmed, Olivia. You've just got me so hot and bothered, but not tonight", he whispered.

Ian joined her on the bed and kissed her again. Olga returned the kiss and ran her fingers through his dark blond hair, her lips parting under his. His lips left hers and planted kisses along her throat and on her breasts. "Relax, Olivia", he murmured.

Ian sat up in bed and his eyes bored into her as he placed a hand on her hip and slowly pulled the panties down her legs. Olga blushed furiously as she lay naked in front of him. "You're so beautiful, Olga Nicholaevna", he whispered.

Olga's heart beat frantically at his words. "You are beautiful, Olga", he repeated.

"Not true, Tatiana and Maria are the beauties. I'm supposed to be the smart one", she protested.

"Nonsense, you are a beautiful and very intelligent woman, mara kamala. Let me show you", he said.

Ian kissed her softly and his lips moved lower down her body as she trembled with need. He planted little kisses on her stomach and thighs and Olga trembled with anticipation and a bit of uncertainty. "Relax, Olivia", he murmured.

Olga groaned when Ian parted her legs and gently brushed his fingers against her heated core. She let out a moan as the touch went through her like a sliver of flame coursing through her system. Her breath came in harsh little pants as Ian continued to toy with her using his fingers, a knot of desire growing hotter in her belly with each second. "Relax and enjoy, Olivia", he said.

The desire in her belly grew into a sense of pleasure as Ian continued to stroke her. Olga watched through hazy blue eyes as Ian kneeled before her spread legs and his fingers gently stroked her, her breath coming in little gasps with every stroke. It seemed as though every little touch of his fingers down there made little flames of desire grow even hotter in her belly, feeling as though she were headed towards some sort of peak. She gasped and moaned softly when it seemed as though pleasure was going to overwhelm her, the knot in her belly growing ever tighter.

"Relax, Olivia. Let it go", he said.

Olga groaned and felt as though she was racing towards a peak as she shut her eyes tightly. Suddenly it all came to a head as she bit her lip to keep from crying out, as ripples of pleasure shot out from her core and her body shuddered. Ian kissed her softly and snuggled against her on the bed. She frowned when she felt his erection strain against her thigh as he groaned. "Ian, are you all right?", she asked.

"I'm fine, Olivia. I'll just toss one off", he whispered.

An idea came to her. "Like the lady in the book, let me help you", she said.

Ian watched as Olga slipped out of his embrace and slid the underwear down his legs. His breath caught in his throat when she gently put her hands on his erection and cautiously began to stroke him. "Olivia", he groaned.

"I rather like the feel, I wanted to make you feel good", she replied.

Ian could only nod as Olga continued to stroke him, every touch of her hands bringing him ever closer to that climax. Olga could hear him groan and feel the tightening of his abs every time she stroked him, an odd sense of pride that she could make him feel like this. "Olivia, watch out", he warned.

Olga was surprised when his eyes shut tight and he muttered several curses. His shaft in her hand squirted a gooey white substance as she gasped, his face flushed and muted curses escaping his lips. "Sorry about that, there's some tissues in the drawer", he said apologetically.

Olga blushed a she got up from the bed and found tissues in the drawer. Ian was still as she cleaned him up. "Uh, there's a bin by the bed", he said.

"I don't think that is the proper place for your seed", she teased.

"I know, but not yet. Just stay here with me, Olga Nicholaevna", he said.

Olga rejoined him on the bed. "Leave your pajamas alone. Tomorrow I have to go to the University to drop off the syllabi in my office. When I get back, I 'll take you to my temple in Leeds. There's no temples here in Manchester, outside of London and Birmingham there's few temples. Since the school term is starting, I like to pray for guidance", he said.

"Uhm, we're naked", she said lamely.

"Religion and sexuality are supposed to be complementary to each other, not at odds", he said.

Olga snuggled up against him. "I want to know more", she whispered.

"You will, Olivia. Good night", he said.


	6. Chapter 6

Olga fought the urge to look down at her watch as she tried to focus on the book on her lap. Ian had gone to the university to drop off the syllabi and she'd been on pins and needles waiting. "Ohh, you can't wait to see Ian. I don't want to get like this when I have a boyfriend", teased Anastasia.

Olga blushed. "Ian is taking me to Leeds later to see his temple and to meet some of his friends. Why don't you go tease Mashka?", she retorted.

"She's no fun to tease, and Nicole doesn't like it. I can't wait until I get a boyfriend and turn eighteen, so I can do stuff. I still have to go to school for one more year", pouted Anastasia.

"Of course, you need to complete secondary school to attend university. Why don't you pester Alex?", Olga chided.

"He's reading a comic book and I don't want to bother him. Mama and Papa are going to the cinema with Pierre and the girls, they're concerned you don't want to go", said Anastasia.

Olga blushed guiltily. "Tell Mama and Papa I'm sorry, Nastenka. But I love spending time with Ian, it's lovely", she sighed.

Anastasia snickered and her blue eyes danced with mischief. "Oooh, you're in love with Ian", she trilled.

Olga blushed some more. "I am, Nastya. And when you get a boyfriend, I will tease you so much", she retorted.

"I'm sorry, Olenka. But you know, I'm the family shvibik. Since Tanya isn't here, I need someone to tease", she laughed.

"Your sister is right, Natalie. One day you'll realize teasing people isn't nice", chided Skye.

"Because you're older than Olivia, Skye. I don't want to be old and make everyone miserable, I want to be older and listen to the Beatles and Motown and dance", vowed Anastasia.

"But you have to grow up, go to university and get a job. Unless you want to live with your parents", teased Skye.

"No. I want to go to London or New York or Paris or Hollywood. I want to be an actress or a pop singer, something glamorous", she declared.

"Go to school first, Nastenka", said Olga.

Anastasia just stuck out her tongue. Olga immediately sat up straight when she heard Ian's car outside. Her heart beat in anticipation when he opened the door and entered the parlor. "Sorry I was late, the dean wanted to speak about a faculty meeting Friday afternoon for the history department. And how are you doing, Natalie?", he asked.

"I want to ride on a motorbike, and I don't want to be old and boring", she declared.

"I see. Boring people are boring because they're not interested in anything. They don't want to try anything new or different and aren't interested. As long as you keep an open mind, you will never be bored", said Ian.

"I see. So if I'm willing to try new things, I won't be bored. But I have to wait until I go to uni, I won't go to one around here", said Anastasia.

"Then where?", asked Olga.

"London, the continent or maybe the US, wouldn't that be fun to go to uni in the states? California is so beautiful, like in Gidget. I want to surf", she said.

"Perhaps, if you do well in school you can apply. The files for you and Alex have been sent to Barlow secondary school, we had to estimate what your progress would be if you went to a British school. Don't worry, you two had good marks", said Ian.

"As long as I don't have to take a lot of maths, that's boring. I already know French and Russian and some German, I want to take art classes", she said.

"Do you want to speak with your parents, Olivia? I don't want them to think you're neglecting them", said Ian.

"I'm not neglecting them, Ian. But maybe I ought to speak with them", Olga mused aloud.

Ian nodded in agreement. He put an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek before holding her hand and leading her out of the house. "Olivia, would you like some coffee?", asked Maria as she embraced her older sister.

"We're fine, Mashka. Where's Mama and Papa?", she asked.

"They're in the garden with Pierre and the girls", said Maria.

Nicholas and Alexandra were in the back garden, him reading a book and her knitting while Mollie and Nicole chased each other. Pierre was busy checking the flower bed for weeds, his hands in tough leather gloves with a small pile of dandelions at his feet. "Lovely day, isn't it? The bloody weeds grow so fast", he muttered.

"Daddy, you said bloody", chided Nicole.

"I know, weeds hurt the flowers and I don't like them", he teased.

"Olivia, do you want to go to the cinema? I rather like these films, especially the American ones. We're going to see Donovan's Reef", said Nicholas.

"Papa, I'm going with Ian to Leeds", said Olga.

"But why? You just went with him to Morecambe yesterday", exclaimed Alexandra.

"I want to meet his friends and see more of England. And come September I'll be in Liverpool going to university. Perhaps we can all go on one final hols before the term starts", said Olga.

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Parker. My motorcycle club is going on an outing to the North Moors, their families and partners as well. Would you like to join us, the moors are lovely this time of year. I can reserve more beds at the hostel", said Ian.

"Nicky, the moors are lovely. Remember when we visited England before we got married, and went to Harrogate?", asked Alexandra.

"Yes, I did want to see more of Yorkshire. That is a good idea, Ian. When is your club going?", asked Nicholas.

"On August 27, since our group is mostly teachers we can take off without worrying. The Kingfishers are good lads, we met during our army service in India. Since we're scattered around England, we meet up once a year at a national park", he said.

"I see. Be careful and stay safe", said Alexandra as she hugged her eldest daughter.

"I will, Mama", she said.

Olga felt a thrill go through her when Ian took the tarp off the motorcycle. She put on the helmet and shades, wondering what sort of design she ought to put on the helmet. "When we get to the temple, just follow my lead. It's to be polite", he said.

"But didn't you have a big ceremony when you converted? I did for my Confirmation", said Olga.

"No, I just started going to the temple, read a lot of books and said I was a Hindu. There's no real conversion ceremony, but some temples will do one for a fee. But it's pointless", he said with a shrug.

Olga got behind him on the bike as he activated the kickstart and the bike roared to life. Ian went the speed limit on the street but went in a different direction towards the M64, waiting on the ramp for an opening. Olga felt the familiar thrill go through her when Ian saw an opening on the motorway and the bike quickly darted forward onto the highway.

Olga had her arms around him tightly and felt more at ease than yesterday as Ian deftly handled the bike. She noticed that the sings were different but the road was otherwise the same as she held on tight. Within the hour, they had passed the Leeds city limits as Ian slowed down to a more sedate speed. She was surprised when Ian rode into a suburban council estate on the outskirts of Leeds and parked in front of a plain building which resembled a warehouse. "This is the temple, a lot of Indian immigrants live in the suburbs of Leeds and Bradford. It was an old warehouse bought by a Hindu congregation", he explained.

Olga watched as he locked the bike and wrapped the chain around a pole, then used another chain to lock their helmets to the handlebars. He took her hand and led them towards the temple. Although at first glance it looked like an old warehouse, up close she could see that the massive wooden door was shiny from a wax polishing and carved with depictions of lotus flowers with Shiva sitting on a lotus.

Ian led her inside and Olga's eyes widened in surprise and delight. The contrast between the plain, austere warehouse exterior and the rich, vibrant exterior was stunning. The walls and accents were done in a warm shade of orangish-brown the color of marigolds while the niches in the walls held different statues of Hindu deities. The statues were all made of plaster but painted in vivid colors with gold and silver painted accents which twinkled in the lights.

The rich aroma of incense filled the air and Olga was moved by the temple's beauty, realizing that it reminded her of an Orthodox church. The incense, the colors, the deities brought back memories of church, except for the statues in place of icons and the fewer people. She noticed that Ian and her were the only white people in the temple, the other people all Indians. Olga remembered how in Livadia when her father had met with the Tatar khans and how different they had looked from herself and her family. And how in Tobolsk they had seen Siberian herdsmen, surprised they were Russians in spite of their odd clothes and different looks.

Olga watched as Ian stood in front of a statue of Vishnu, not sure what to make of the deity with his numerous arms like something out of mythology.   
He bowed his head and clasped his hands together, then reached into his blue cloth bag to take out a white rosebud which he placed in front of the statue before prostrating himself in front of the statue. At a statue of Lakshmi he did the same thing and also at a statue of Krishna.

She noticed that the other worshippers did the same thing to the various statues, but not all of them. Some gave gifts of little white packages of biscuits, others flowers while others gave lit sticks of incense, but they all clasped their hands and bowed their heads in front of the statues.

Olga was quiet when they left the temple. "Let's get some lunch, I know a place", he said.


	7. Chapter 7

Olga was careful to put on her helmet and hold tight as Ian started up the motorcycle. Soon they were back on the M62 heading back towards Manchester, arriving back to Didsbury within an hour. Ian parked the motorcycle in the tiny lot of a pub next another motorcycle which had the Kingfisher symbol on the gas tank. "My friend Basil is meeting us for lunch. He's the head of our club, he's a professor of Egyptian history at my uni", he said.

Ian led her inside the pub, the Crowned Lion, whose namesake sign hung over the door. Inside it was smoky and dim as the bartender looked up and nodded in greeting. "Ian, glad you brought along your new missus", said Basil Huntingdon, a hint of Lancashire drawl in his otherwise Oxbridge accent.

Ian clapped him on the back and let Olga get in the booth first. "You too, Basil. Olivia, this is my friend and club leader Basil Huntingdon. Basil, this is my girlfriend Olivia Parker", he said as they shook hands.

"Glad to meet you, Miss Parker. I'm glad to meet Ian's new missus, he's been single for far too long. It's good you're not scared off by the bike or himself", laughed Basil.

"I consider myself to be brave, and I quite like the motorbike. And Ian is a fascinating man, I quite like looking through his library", said Olga.

"She borrowed my copy of Diodorus and is already halfway finished", said Ian as Olga blushed.

"Clever girl, my wife prefers Herodotus but Diodorus is also good", said Basil.

A waitress came over with their drinks, three whisky and waters. "So Olivia, it's been a long time since you've known Ian and you're finally gotten together?", asked Basil.

"Yes, Ian and I knew each other as children, then our family moved to London for Papa's job. We moved up to Manchester and our neighbors turned out to be the Sutherlands", she chuckled.

"How lovely. I suppose she's prettier than as a little girl", laughed Basil.

Ian chuckled as he squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. "Yes, she was a cute child in pigtails turned into a beautiful woman", he said with a smile.

"Mr. Huntingdon, Ian says you're a professor of ancient Egyptian history", said Olga.

"Please call me Basil, Mr. Huntingdon makes me sound old. Yes, my area of specialization is Ptolemaic Egypt, the pharaonic dynasty founded by Ptolemy", said Basil.

"Alexander's general", she said.

"Yes, and the only one of the empires which lasted for a long while instead of falling into anarchy. I've been to Egypt many times but Cairo is too crowded, I much prefer Alexandria. Ptolemaic Egypt is underrated, all people know is Cleopatra and that film is Hollywood rubbish. Burton can do better", said Basil dismissively.

"I haven't seen it yet, most Hollywood films are rubbish. How's your wife doing?", asked Ian.

"Tabitha is fine, we just got back from Berlin last week. I did a series of lectures at the Pergamonmuseum, that was the good part. Since it's within the eastern part of the city, we had these security guards around us all the time. That ugly wall cuts the city in half and they got armed guards, we weren't allowed to speak with ordinary Germans, even during the Q&A. The guards made sure people only asked about the art and Tabitha had to translate, she's from Germany", said Basil.

"How awful. I've seen that ghastly wall in the papers, people must be frightened", said Olga.

"I suppose since we weren't allowed to speak with anyone. It's more serious for my wife since she's originally from Berlin, she and her sister escaped on the Kinderstransport to England since they're Jewish. She came with me since she speaks German, but she considers herself English", said Basil, showing them a photo from his wallet.

Olga had been expecting a dark-skinned girl with a big nose and wild curly black hair. However, Tabitha was an attractive woman with long straight dark brown hair and warm hazel eyes, which set off her porcelain complexion. "She's very pretty", she said.

"Thanks, we met at uni since we were both in the same Ancient Egypt class, we married our senior year. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to have any children in five years of marriage", said Basil sadly.

"I sorry to hear that", said Olga kindly.

"If we can't have biological children, we'll adopt. I love my nieces and nephews and I'd want to have my own children. But let's see", said Basil.

A waitress handed them paper menus and another round of drinks. "I'd recommend the fisherman's pie, or the ploughman's lunch. I don't eat beef, of course", said Ian.

"Yes, since it's an avatar of Krishna", said Olga.

"Lucky as a regular Englishman, that's not a problem for me. But we don't eat pork since Tabitha is Jewish, we don't otherwise keep kosher", said Basil.

"Ian mentioned something about a trip to the Moors", said Olga.

"Oh, our annual trip. Each year the Kingfishers take a trip to a different national park, last year we went to the Peak District and the year before the Lake District. Perhaps next year we'll go up to Scotland, or perhaps Wales", said Basil.

"Yes, and we go to Scotland each December for the Sutherland family reunion. It's beautiful up there", said Ian.

Olga felt a thrill at the idea of going up to Scotland with Ian's friends, riding behind him on the bike and in a foreign country. "My family wants to go along to the Moors, do your families come along as well?", she asked.

"Depends, none of us have got kids. You mean siblings?", asked Basil.

"And parents, I have three sisters and a brother, but one of my sisters is in the states", said Olga.

"Sure, but they have to pay for their own bunks. We're staying at a lodge and there's bunk beds", said Basil.

"What is Egypt like?", asked Olga.

"Fascinating, brilliant. While Cairo is too crowded and big, the pyramids really are that impressive and fascinating up close. We went on a tour inside the pyramid of Cheops but it's not for claustrophobic or anxious people. The Valley of Kings at Luxor is just as fascinating, plus the area is more rural and less crowded. But Alexandria is my favorite place, since Ptolemaic Egypt is my area of expertise. We keep finding more and more interesting things in the city. Imagine the city at its height, seeing the Pharos and the Library or Alexander's tomb", said Basil with a dreamy smile.

Olga's mind was swimming with all their talk about road trips or Egypt, sparking her determination to travel and see more of the world. She'd been slightly jealous when Tatiana had gone to Iceland and later to Belgium with Jack, and now going to America. But now the idea of riding on Ian's bike to Scotland or traveling to Egypt or India sounded thrilling, not the looming dread of their forced exile into Siberia or the uncertainty of Ekaterinburg. "In December, you want to come to our family reunion in Scotland? It's at Dunrobin Castle in the Highlands, the ancestral seat of the Scottish Sutherlands?", asked Ian.

"Of course, Mama said Scotland is lovely and I would like to meet your family", she replied enthusiastically.

"We can't take the bike since it's winter, we take the train all the way up north", said Ian.

"I don't mind, I imagine that Scotland is colder than England in the winter", she said as the waitress arrived with their lunch.


	8. Chapter 8

Olga felt a sense of satisfaction when she finished reading Diodorus, lying back on the bed with a satisfied smile on her face. She had picked up from before after supper and continued reading all through the night, wanting to finish it before starting on the Bhagavad Gita. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and realized it was 11:30 as she got up to put the book away.

Olga carefully stepped outside and went downstairs to the library. She was disappointed that the office was empty but she turned on the light to put the book away. She giggled nervously when she saw that the Kama Sutra was still missing her cheeks turning pink when she remembered the night before. 

Olga put the book away and turned off the light before leaving the office. Once she got upstairs, a little thrill went through her when she saw the light under Ian's door. Before she could knock, the door opened and Ian stood in the doorway in his pajama bottoms and smoking jacket. The light from the room made his hair glow like gold and for a moment Olga thought he resembled a Greek god. "Dobry wieczor, mara kamala", he murmured.

"Polish sounds a lot like Russian", she replied.

"They're both Slavic languages, I understand some Russian but not enough to make me a member of MI6", he chuckled.

Ian carefully closed the door behind them and Olga's gaze went to the Kama Sutra on his bed. A dull blush spread on her cheeks when she saw that red leather book and Ian put his arms around her waist. "Relax, Olivia. Just let me know if you're upset or don't want to do something", he murmured in her ear.

"How come you think I wouldn't want to do that?", she teased.

Ian chuckled as lips nuzzled her ear. "When I first met you, Olga Nicholaevna, I realized you were a brave woman. You weren't frightened being here and asked all sorts of questions. Then you went straight to our piano and played along to Brubeck", he replied.

"At that horrid house, the guards made us play ugly songs on the piano. But I heard such beautiful music and I knew I had to play along", she said.

"I would put on some Brubeck, or some older Chet Baker or some Roy Orbison but I don't want to wake up our siblings", he said ruefully.

Olga nodded. "Of course Skye knows we're dating, but I don't want to frighten her", he said.

"What does your religion say about that?", she asked.

"People are supposed to be married first, but not everyone follows that rule. I intend to marry you one day, Olivia Parker. But there's time for courtship", he teased.

Olga turned around in surprise. "But that is so sudden", she exclaimed.

"A lot of people have had happy marriages after short courtships. Your parents were only engaged for a short time but are a very happy couple. My parents got married after three months of dating and they're quite happy. Us Sutherlands tend to be lucky in love", he laughed.

"You have better speak with Mama and Papa", she chided.

"I know, my father had to speak with Babcia first just before he married Mum. Believe me, my proposal won't be like this", he teased.

Ian kissed her softly and led her over to the bed. He picked up the book and carefully opened it as he sat next to her and planted a kiss on her shoulder. "Turn the page", he whispered huskily.

Olga felt the heavy, glossy paper under her fingertips and slowly turned the page. The following page madder her cheeks turn bright red. The couple were both naked and the woman had his penis in her mouth with the man's eyes closed and his head thrown back in ecstasy. "Do people really do such things?", she asked in shock.

"Yes, there's all different ways", he laughed.

"Have you done this before?", she asked suspiciously.

"If you're asking if I've ever shagged girls, then yes. But it's been nearly five years and I was drunk that last time. But I haven't had a real girlfriend before, between my army service and studies, I didn't have the time. You're the first woman I've wanted to be my girlfriend, Olga Nicholaevna", he murmured.

Olga saw the sincerity and passion in his eyes and heard it in his voice, his green eyes glowing with golden highlights. "I, I, I don't know what to say, Ian. I thought any courtship or relationship I would have would be out of duty, but I wanted love as well, like Mama and Papa. I hope I find it with you", she whispered.

Ian gave her a quick kiss and went to get the incense. This time the sweet scent of roses came from the bowl as Olga smiled in delight. "I know, roses are your favorite", he teased.

Olga watched as Ian slipped off the jacket to reveal his chest, a blush forming on her cheeks. "You're cute when you blush, Olivia", he chuckled.

Ian kissed her again as his hands reached for the sash of her robe. His eyes widened momentarily and his eyes turned golden with desire when he saw she wore nothing underneath. "Naughty girl", he whispered against her lips.

Ian broke the kiss and his lips planted little kisses along her jawline. Olga moaned softly and tilted her neck towards him as his lips moved lower down her throat, feeling the pulse under his lips beat faster. She tensed slightly when she felt his hands on her breasts as her nipples hardened at his touch. "You have pretty little breasts", he whispered.

Olga gently slid his hands off her body and turned around to face him. "I want to do what was in the book", she said huskily.

Ian's eyes turned a vivid gold with lust as he laid back on the bed. "I'm all yours, mara kamala", he drawled.

Olga just laughed as she crawled up his body, her breasts pressed against his chest. She kissed him and his lips parted under hers as their tongues dueled, his fingers in her long blond hair. Her lips left his and placed little kisses along his jawline and down his neck, feeling his fingers in her hair. Ian sighed when Olga spread her hands on his chest and felt the taut muscles. "I work out a bit, but I'm no Adonis", he teased.

"You are good-looking and fit, Ian", she chuckled.

"I know, Olivia", he teased.

Olga giggled. Ian's humor turned into lust as she trailed kisses down his chest and licked his nipples. "Ugh, yes", he groaned.

She was surprised by his reaction. "Ours are sensitive too, but many men don't realize that. You're doing well", he said softly.

Olga blushed as she kissed his nipples again. She turned redder when she felt the bulge under his pajama bottoms as she reached for the waistband, and slide them down his legs. Ian's breathing grew heavy and his eyes were narrow slits of green-gold as he watched her hands on his hips and roll down the boxers over his legs. A pretty blush formed on her cheeks when she saw he was fully naked. "Take your time, Olga Nicholaevna", he murmured.

Olga carefully began to stroke him as Ian sighed. She grew bolder as she remembered the picture in the book and stroked him just a little bit harder, then leaned over and took him into her mouth. Ian was startled at first but he lay back on the bed with narrowed green eyes as he watched Olga suck on him. He brushed the hair away from her face and groaned at the view. Olga wore nothing but a pair of panties and her breasts were bare as she sucked on him, a surge of desire growing through him at the sight and the sensations. A slow tightening began in his lower belly and his heart started to pound as a pinprick of lust grew ever tighter, knowing he was close. "Olivia, watch out", he warned.

Olga had an idea of what he meant when she felt his muscles stiffen under her hands. Ian shut his eyes tightly and swore softly in Polish as the climax surged through him. To his surprise, Olga kept him in her mouth as she came, the sight easily one of the most erotic things he had ever seen. "There's tissues in the drawer", he whispered.

Olga blushed as she climbed off the bed and went to wipe her mouth. Ian reached out and pulled her into his arms, gently feeling between her legs. ""Let me help you with that", he said.

Olga was still as Ian slid the panties down her legs and she moaned softly when she felt his fingertips against her heated flesh. Ian kept his eyes trained on her face as he gently stroked her, watching as her cheeks flushed and her lips parted slightly. Olga moaned as he applied slightly more pressure which made a jolt of desire go through her body. "Touch your breasts", he told her.

Olga was surprised at the command but found that her pleasure was heightened by the sensation. Ian continued to toy with her and knew she was close by the harsh little gasps escaping her lips and how warm she felt. "Just let it go, Olivia", he whispered.

Olga whimpered and closed her eyes as her body shuddered and a wave of pleasure rolled over her. She snuggled into his embrace and Ian kissed the top of her head. "I could get used to this", he murmured.

"Me too, I wonder if this is how Mama and Papa felt after sharing a bed", she mused aloud.

"I suppose, our parents were all lucky. I won't let you go, mara kamala. Good night", he said, kissing her lips.


	9. Chapter 9

“Be careful, Olivia", chided Alexandra.

"I will, Mama. We'll meet up at the hostel at Hawes, Skye and Pierre will be following behind us", said Olga reassuringly.

"I'm just concerned, Olivia. I know you've ridden with Ian before, but the Moors are more rugged", fretted Alexandra.

"I will be careful, Mama", Olga reassured her.

Ian handed her the helmet as she quickly strapped it on along with the sunglasses. Both of them wore water-proof leather jackets and trousers and gloves in addition to their helmets as Ian checked the saddlebags. "It can get rainy on the moors, but then the sun comes out and everything is beautiful again. The heather is in bloom and the sky is blue. The North Moors are stunning and the heather is even more beautiful", said Ian.

"Lucky our cameras are in the bags", said Olga.

"Of course", Ian agreed.

Olga got behind him on the motorcycle and he kicked the bike into gear. They only rode for a few minutes to the Crowned Lion where they met up with the rest of the Kingfishers, the riders all wearing black leather jackets with the club's Kingfisher emblem on the back. "Looks like everyone's here, Ian and his missus have arrived", teased Basil.

Ian dismounted and took her hand to introduce her to the rest of the group. Olga smiled and shook hands, seeing that many of them were teachers and professors just like Ian. "Looks like we're the only women who ride", said Tabitha, Basil's wife.

"I was a bit nervous at first but I liked it, it's a lovely feeling to ride", Olga agreed.

"I know, it's much better than riding in a car", replied Tabitha. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties with long straight dark brown hair in braids pinned atop her head and sharp hazel eyes, her full lips and high cheekbones hinting at Slavic heritage. In spite of here German birth, she had an accent that was a cross between a Lancashire drawl and Oxbridge, like Basil's.

"What uni did you attend?", asked Olga.

"Right here, the uni at Manchester. I teach Regency literature, Jane Austen is my favorite", replied Tabitha.

"I'm going to start at the uni in Liverpool in September. I'm studying history. I was a nurse for the last five years and I want to do something different", said Olga.

"Good for you, a lot of people just stick with their job even if they don't like it. Good luck", said Tabitha.

Olga nodded in thanks. Basil gave the signal and soon they were all on their bikes headed towards the motorway. She felt the familiar thrill when they entered the motorway as the bikes flocked together like birds. Other drivers on the motorway gave them curious looks while children in backseats waved and looked on in delight.

Once they were past Leeds and Bradford, the countryside grew more rugged and hilly with far fewer people. The road had now turned into a two-lane one as the bikes rode in single file around the hills as they carefully maneuvered the bike. Once they reached the border of North Moors, all traces of Leeds and Bradford and their suburbs had been left behind. In its place were vividly green hills with creamy white and tan limestone underneath, brilliant pure blue skies dotted by puffy white clouds overhead.

After riding for a few more kilometres and going up a hill, the group stopped momentarily to take in the view. The hills and hillsides were brilliantly and vividly alive with heather. The pink and purple blossoms provided a striking contrast to the greenery and stone and blue skies, the little flowers trembling gently in the soft breeze. Off in the distance by the horizon one could see the tiny sliver of the North Sea, gray-blue sea meeting brown rock and pink and purple heather.

"I know, it's the best view on Earth. After we get to the hostel and have lunch, we'll go hiking", said Ian.

Olga could only nod and get back on the bike behind Ian and the others took off again. She made sure to hold on tightly but the moors around them were the most beautiful landscapes she had ever seen. The hills wit their pink and purple blooms were so different from the green, pine-forested hills of the Urals or the semi-tropical hills of Crimea and Livadia. very English. She mused that perhaps this where Catherine and Heathcliff must have been at their happiest.

The riders arrived at the hostel in Helmsley as they parked their bikes in the motorcycle lot. Olga sighed with relief when she saw the other cars as the family came over and hugged her. "I'm so glad you got here safely, Olivia", said Alexandra.

"I'm fine, Mama. and did you enjoy the drive?", asked Olga.

"It's so beautiful here! Yorkshire is more beautiful than I remembered, we didn't see the heather in bloom last time", said Alexandra.

"It is pretty, especially the heather. They look like lilacs", said Maria.

"It's so pretty here, Miss Maria. I've been to the Lake District with Daddy and that's pretty too", said Nicole.

"Mummy-Chan and Daddy say the cherry blossoms in Japan are pretty, but I've only seen Uncle Pierre's. It's pretty", said Mollie.

"Girls, we have to find our bunks and get lunch", said Pierre.

"Okay, Daddy. Are we and Miss Maria going hiking too?", asked Nicole.

"Yes, after lunch", said Pierre as they all went inside.

Olga was happy that Nicole appeared to like Maria as her father's new partner, knowing her sister adored children and dreamed of having her own family. "It's like a large dormitory, everyone gets a bunk. There's a cafeteria where you can get meals and organized tours of the local ruins and towns", Ian explained.

"Oh, how big are these tours?", asked Nicholas.

"Depends on how many people get together, usually between 5-10 people. A guide will point out the highlights and make sure you don't get lost", said Ian.

"Ohh, what happens if you get lost?", asked Anastasia, a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes.

"You'd probably freeze, it gets cold out here at night. I'd not recommend wandering off, it's too cold and the hostels and towns are spread out", said Skye.

"Wow, that stinks. I thought you would get eaten by a bear", said Alexei.

"There's no bears around here, up in Scotland there's wolves", said Ian.

Ian led them towards the main room of the hostel. "We'll choose bunks close together. There's separate showers for men and women. The cafeteria is further down the corridor and you choose what you like, meals are included with your stay", he explained.

Olga was disappointed that she and Ian couldn't share a bunk, already missing the idea of sleeping with Ian. "I'm hungry", said Alexei. 

"Let's unpack and get lunch", said Ian.


	10. Chapter 10

“Are you sure you're going to be safe, Olivia? It's raining outside", said Alexandra worriedly.

"It's not raining that badly and I have my mac raincoat. You know in Northern England it rains a lot", teased Olga.

"Yeah Mama, I wish I could go on a motorbike with Ian and Olivia", said Alexei with a pout.

"You have to be 18 to ride a motorbike, Alex. And this rain stinks, I hope they're showing films in the auditorium", said Anastasia.

"They're playin a film by John Wayne, North to Alaska, and some cowboy films. There's also card games in the cafeteria and a small library", said Ian.

"Ohh, Papa likes John Wayne. We saw Donovan's Reef at the cinema last week, the Alamo was on the telly last week", said Anastasia.

"He's a typical Yank actor, the strong and silent type. No range, but then again he always seems to play soldiers or cowboys. Yanks sure do love their cowboys", Ian chuckled ruefully.

Olga made her sure her waterproof mackintosh was buttoned up and was glad that her boots had an extra layer of waterproofing wax as Ian handed her the helmet and shades. "It's only a few of us today, lots of folks don't like to ride in the rain", said Ian.

Olga nodded when she saw only Percy from their group as they went to fetch their bikes. "Glad your missus doesn't mind the rain, Ian. I don't swing in that way, I'd have a mister instead", laughed Percy Armstrong, his odd accent a mix of Geordie and Oxbridge.

"Of course, we all know you're queer and have as much interest in girls as I have in growing turnips", teased Ian as they laughed. Percy was tall and skinny with longish brown hair nearly to his collar and pale blue eyes, his skin nearly the color of chalk with a gray undertone from a lack of sun, his small hands with their long fingers very white and looking as though they belonged on a woman.

"Whitby is only 45 minutes from here, perhaps tomorrow if the weather is better we can go to Scarborough", said Ian.

"Your hometown", she said.

"Yes, even though Mum and Dad live in France and another family lives there now", said Ian.

They put on their helmets and sunglasses as she got behind him on the bike and he revved up the engine. Olga was careful to hold on tight as Ian followed Percy out of the parking lot. It was a soft steady rain as the duo of bikes made their way east out of the park, the road empty except for a few cars who did the exact speed limit. It was a different experience riding through the moors while raining, the skies soft gray and the asphalt shiny with rain. The pinks and purples of the heather seemed more subdued and the green darker but it was still lovely, just not as vivid as yesterday. Still the scenery itself as a whole seemed more vivid under the rain and cloudy skies, the bare cliff faces with their limestone rocks looking above the heather like malevolent beasts.

They arrived in Whitby less than an hour later as the motorcycles parked in the town's public lot. "Before we leave, we ought to take a picture of the town from the heights, Whitby from that vantage point is stunning", said Ian.

"The first place to visit would be the Cook museum, the barmy lad went so far without knowing where he was going, but not for nowt", said Percy with a laugh. 

"Of course, you did write a biography of the man", teased Ian.

"Yeah, he was an amazing and very lucky bloke, except for the very end", Percy quipped.

Ian nodded as they locked their helmets to the handlebars with the chain. He took her hand and Olga was glad that her rain hat had been packed in their saddlebags. The streets of Whitby were quiet except for a few people with umbrellas and raincoats who hurried in and out of the shops The cobblestone streets glistened with the falling rain as it gently made a soft splashing sound hitting the stones with the North Sea visible in the distance. Under the gray skies and falling rain, the North Sea appeared as a flat expanse of still gunmetal gray water on the edge of town. Except for the occasional thin line of breaking waves, it appeared to be flat and opaque as a pane of smoky glass.

The Captain Cook museum from the outside appeared to be just a plain white building with a brick roof, with only a wooden sign hanging over the doorway. Inside a middle-aged woman looked up from her newspaper and smiled. "Three tickets, if you got questions just ask", she said with a Yorkshire accent.

"Now worries, we're from Yorkshire", said Ian.

"Good, always a pleasure", chuckled the lady.

"Why are Northerners so upset with Southerners?", Olga wondered aloud once they were out of earshot.

"It's cultural, the south of England has more wealth and better weather in addition to London being the capital. But although we got less money and crap weather, we got a lot of history. And we fought the Normans, the Tudors, and have the biggest factories and best national parks. Plus many up in Yorkshire got Viking heritage since this area was part of the Danelaw, Danish Vikings settled here. And the Normans tried to burn us out, Henry the wanker tried to put us down and the rich bastards down south tried to impoverish us. But we're stronger than them", Ian said.

Olga loved the passion in his voice, how his green eyes turned gold with intensity. "Ian, you're scaring your missus", teased Percy.

"Sorry, Olivia. But I'm proud to be from Yorkshire, even though I ended up on the wrong side of t'Pennines", he laughed.

The trio spent the rest of the morning in the little museum. Although the museum building was small, it had many exhibits pertaining to Captain James Cook and his voyages. Behind a glass case displayed a wooden replica of the HMS Endeavor, the model an exact copy of Cook's famous ship. Contemporary maps of the Pacific and of the Australian and New Zealand coasts hung in frames on the wall, the coastal outlines quite different from the ones in modern maps. Other cases had artifacts collected from Cook's travels, from his initial landing in Hawaii to the south Pacific around Tahiti to his penultimate journey to the Antipodes, a modern chart in a glass case showing how far the Endeavor had traveled.

"Of course, he had no idea that he'd discovered a continent. The closest equivalent would be finding another planet", said Ian.

"We need a stronger telescope, I think Pluto is as far as we can see so we'll need a stronger telescope to see more planets. Just hope the aliens are friendly", joked Percy.

Olga nodded, remembering an article in the newspaper which referred to Pluto as the newest and furthest planet in the solar system. "Pluto would be a better bet for having life, since it's solid", she said.

"I'm sure, but they could be microscopic bugs or something very different from humans. Or they could be green men like in the films", said Percy.

Olga nodded in agreement. She noticed that Ian didn't seem jealous of Percy joining them, or that Percy didn't mind her tagging along. "Percy's queer", Ian explained.

"I see, I had some idea. Do you have a partner, Percy?", she asked.

"Not at the moment, the queer scene up North is virtually nil and I don't like London. Plus the queer bars around Manchester keep getting busted by the coppers since they're owned by gangsters and sometimes they don't get their bribes. Perhaps in London it's different", said Percy with a shrug.

"I grew up hearing from our priest that queer men were disgusting and an abomination, but they're not like that at all. Clive and Gavin are good lads, why is it illegal then if it bothers no one?", Olga mused aloud.

"Because the coppers like to arrest folks and people cannot mind their own business. Luckily my parents accepted it, my older siblings have got children so I'm off the hook for grandchildren. And maybe if I moved to Brighton, I'll find someone. That's where the queers down south live", said Percy.

Olga was thoughtful as they left the museum and walked into a nearby pub for lunch. She mused that in nearly two months in England of 1963, she had met more interesting people and had seen more places than in her time as a Grand Duchess. As a child she had been confined in the nursery of their various palaces and then there was the ever-present security around them at Tsarkoe Selo and everywhere else. Until her nursing work during the war, she had no idea about how many of her fellow Russians lived and their captivity brought all that home.

Olga shook her head as she followed them to a booth inside the pub. "Try the Theakston beers, that's the local brew. I like the bitter but the Grouse Beater just came into season", said Ian.

"Grouse Beater?", she asked dubiously.

"It's a seasonal beer, it's released in the autumn", Ian explained.

Percy ordered them each a shot of Famous Grouse and a round of Grouse Beater. "Bagging double the Grouse", he quipped.

Olga laughed as she lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed. The whisky burned slightly on the way down but left a pleasant warmth afterwards. "Clever girl, most women can only drink whisky with something", teased Percy.

"Ian had me try Talisker, I quite liked it", she replied.

"That's good, my sisters only drink wine spritzers", said Percy in mock-horror while Ian made a face.

"Whatever you get, make sure it comes with Yorkshire pudding. This place makes the best, after Skye's of course", Ian laughed.

"How about mine, then?" asked Olga as she pretended to glare.

"And yours are tied for first, mara kamala", he replied gallantly as Olga blushed.

The trio ordered lunch, three chicken pies with a side of Yorkshire pudding. "Of course, no regular meat pies", teased Percy.

"I'm not eating my avatar, Percy. And chicken is better for you, I don't eat red meat or pork and last night's supper was trying", said Ian with a frown.

Olga took a sip of her beer and nodded. The hostel's supper last night had different meat pies with beef and lamb, fish and chips and bangers and mash with only a sad-looking vegetable lasagna as the non-meat option. "Hopefully tonight's supper will be better", she said.

"Yeah, tonight is Friday so they'll have fish since so many people up here are Catholics. Then again, hostels aren't known for their gourmet meals. You didn't have to have the veggie lasagna, Olivia", said Ian.

"It wouldn't be fair for me to have meat if you don't, Ian", she protested.

"You have a very good heart, Olivia", said Ian as their food arrived.


	11. Chapter 11

"So what mischief did you and my brother get up to?", teased Skye.

Olga blushed as she took a sip of her Scotch and soda at the hostel bar. "Nothing, we rode into Whitby and saw the Captain Cook museum, then went to a pub for lunch", she replied.

"I'm just teasing you, Olivia. I'm glad that my brother has finally found himself a girlfriend, I set him up on dates with my coworkers and they never worked out", said Skye, squeezing the lime garnish from the glass into her vodka tonic.

"Ian is an unusual man, I suppose convention women aren't very attracted to him", Olga mused aloud.

"Yes, my brother is the quintessential English eccentric. We watched the John Wayne film North to Alaska today, your parents liked it. Tonight the cinema is showing The Searchers, I swear John Wayne must be related to the wankers who run this place", Skye joked.

Olga said nothing as she swirled the straw in her drink. She hoped that the hostel cinema would be dark so that her and Ian could make out undetected. She tried to control the blush rising up in her neck at the idea of making out with Ian with her family in the same room, missing those recent nights when they shared a bed. "You want to snog Ian, Olivia?", teased Skye.

Olga took a sip of her drink to cover up her blushing. "Skye, don't say that", she hissed.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Olivia. I'm glad my brother found a girlfriend, who's also one of my best friends. Just be careful if you shag, I'd rather not be an aunt before the wedding", she deadpanned.

Olga nearly choked on her drink. "Sorry about that, but I'm only taking the mickey out of you", she said.

"For a Sunday school teacher, you have a dirty mouth", teased Olga.

"I know, I'm not a saint. But seriously, I'm glad you two are together. We know each other and you're not a stranger", said Skye.

Olga nodded. She was glad her family had gone hiking on the moors and Ian was in the lounge playing billiards with the rest of the Kingfishers, not wanting them to listen in on their conversation. "When are you going to find someone, Skye?", she asked.

Skye ordered another round of drinks and watched the bartender as he prepared them. "I don't know, my job doesn't have many blokes except for the janitors and the security guards. At our meetings of the Ricardian Society, its older blokes. And men don't volunteer at our church, plus of course Father George is celibate", she chuckled ruefully.

Olga just shook her head as she sipped her drink and looked over at her friend. Skye was taller than her by several inches and slim, her long straight dark blond hair the color of honey. Her long legs were revealed by her knee-length skirt, her face very Slavic-looking with high cheekbones, full pink lips and hazel eyes tilted at the corners. "You're not ugly at all, Skye. Surely some bloke fancies you", she said.

Skye nodded in thanks as the bartender set down their drinks. "I know, but I work in a place with few men and they're old and married. Who knows, maybe I need a knight in shining armor", she laughed.

Olga sipped her drink and wondered if the Sol Duga could help Skye find a boyfriend, since Skye was too kind and pretty to be single forever. "You'll find someone, Skye", she said reassuringly.

Olga smiled when she saw Ian and Percy walk towards the bar. "Our lad here Ian won our little billiards tournament", laughed Percy as he clapped Ian on the back.

"It's a matter of precision where you aim the billiards cue at the cue ball, one has to be precise. You can't just aim blindly", he said, putting an arm around Olga and kissing her cheek.

"You ought to teach me someday, I've never played billiards before. Do you want a drink?", she asked.

"Thank you, Olivia. I'll have a Famous Grouse on the rocks", he told the bartender.

"Playing billiards is quite easy in the technical sense, hitting the cue balls with the stick at the other balls. But you have to aim properly, otherwise the balls will scatter everywhere. It's sort of like golf, but not as posh", said Percy.

Olga was surprised that Percy ordered something called a Three Wise Men, seeing the bartender pour a shot of Jim Beam bourbon, Johnnie Walker Black Scotch and Jameson whiskey into a glass with one ice cube. "My fave, I'm queer, not a poof", he joked as he drank it in two gulps.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that since the drink looked so strong. Olga was relieved when Percy then ordered a glass of water, not wanting him to pass out after drinking a few of those. "Hopefully tomorrow the weather will improve so we can go to Scarborough, I want to show you where we grew up", said Ian.

"Just the outside, another family lives there", Skye reminded him.

"I know, Mamucia", he teased.

Olga finished her drink and let Ian lead her by the hand towards the dining room. The rest of the family were waiting in line at the cafeteria as Alexei waved at them. "I can't wait to see the film, I love cowboy films", he said happily.

"The Searchers isn't a shoot 'em up cowboy film, it's more serious. It's still brilliant, just not a super heroic story", said Ian.

Olga was glad that tonight's menu had different kinds of fish, not just friend. "Goodness, no vegetarian lasagna", said Ian in mock-horror.

"I agree, I had it last night and it was ghastly", said Alexandra.

"I know, finding vegetarian food can be a bother so I stick to fish and chicken. I haven't had a steak in a long while and I don't miss it, it's for the best", said Ian.

After dinner many of the hostel's guests went into the auditorium for that evening's film. The staff hurried about setting up the screen and projector before dimming the lights. Olga was glad that she sat next to Ian as the lights dimmed and the projector started showing the film, feeling his arm around her waist. She did have to chuckle when she saw her parents sitting together while Maria and Pierre held hands, Mollie and Nicole in between Anastasia and Alexei.

Olga watched the film and became thoughtful. She understood why Ethan was so insistent on finding his niece, coming home from the war to find his whole family gone. She imagined that if her family had been destroyed, her father would have moved heaven and earth to find his remaining children. Olga wasn't quite sure what to think when Ethan had wanted to kill his niece after discovering her with the Comanche, but she knew that if she and her other siblings had joined the Bolsheviks, her father would have felt the same way.

"I quite like John Wayne's character in this film, he has such duty towards his family. I would do the same thing for mine", Nicholas mused aloud once the film was done.

"Those Indians were so vicious", said Alexandra with a shudder.

"One has to understand that they were in America before Europeans, many times the settlers weren't honorable towards them. It's a rather sordid tale, at least according to my Yank friends", said Pierre.

"Those poor girls", Maria said sadly.

"I know, bloody glad Britain hasn't been that wild since the Norman times. And are you girls tired?", he teased Mollie and Nicole.

"No!", they yelled.

"All right, we can play some checkers before bed", said Pierre as him and Maria led the girls towards the lounge.

"That was all right for a Yank film, too bad he had to kill the ugly buggers like that. It's a new moon out and the stars ought to be bright, you want to go outside for a spell?", asked Percy.

"All right, let's just get our jackets', said Ian.

Olga was glad that she wore jeans instead of a skirt as she buttoned up her leather jacket and followed Ian and Percy outside. Far from any major town or city, the sky was the deep black of India ink and the stars winked like the facets of cut diamonds against that black sky. The new moon was but a thin white silver in the sky, its light unable to compete with the stars. "I think the only place better for stargazing would be in the Highlands in Scotland or in the Hebrides. I have a telescope at my flat but this is much better", said Percy.

Olga had to agree, never having seen such brilliant stars. The nearest would have been in Tobolsk, but the family had not been allowed outside at night. "As long as you can find Polaris, you won't get lost. That's the North Star", Percy explained as he pointed it out in the sky.

"I learned that in t'Army, bloody useful to know. But I defer to our resident astronomer", teased Ian.

"Hah, I'm only an amateur. If I had my telescope, you would be able to see the planets and stars better. See that constellation there, that's Virgo. When a constellation in the zodiac is directly overhead, it means that we're in that sign's month. Virgo's actually my sign, since my birthday is September 7", said Percy.

"Oh, are you having a party?", asked Olga.

"Perhaps, my parents are taking me out for dinner. Which is right before the term starts, then we'll all be super busy. So you ought to spend more time with your missus", teased Percy.

Ian just laughed as he put an arm around her shoulder. "I know, Liverpool isn't that far", he said.

"It's for the best. After all, absence does make the heart grow fonder", said Olga.

Percy reached into his pocket and took out a shiny Bakelite pipe and a rolled up paper bag. "At least no one's around to see you", warned Ian.

Percy unrolled the bag and sprinkled what looked like dried leaves into the bowl of the pipe and lit it. A pungent aroma which smelled like burning grass emerged from the pipe as he took a puff, then exhaled a large cloud of smoke ten seconds later. "I bought some from a corner shop in the back from a Pakistani bloke", he said.

"What is that?", asked Olga as she wrinkled her nose.

Percy just shrugged and continued smoking his pipe. "I don't like it either, but there are worse things you can do. Like snort cocaine or inject heroin, weed at least isn't addictive or deadly", said Ian.

"It isn't, it's just something I do from time to time. English weed is rubbish, I get mine from the back of a Pakistani shop, the bloke has it shipped from Thailand", said Percy.

He finished the pipe and carefully dumped the ashes in a muddy lump of grass. "The mud will get rid of the smell", he explained.

Olga was quiet as Percy took the pipe and went inside. "That can't be good for him", she said.

Ian nodded. "I don't think his family accepts him totally for being queer, they're just being polite. The rest of the university doesn't know, they think he's just an odd bloke. Hopefully he'll find someone, and at least the Army never found out", he said with a sardonic laugh.

Olga shook her head. "I'm just concerned, Mama and Baba always said I had a tender heart", she said.

"That's good, there's enough heartless, evil bastards out there. We ought to spend as much time as possible together, next Monday you're off to Liverpool Uni", Ian sighed.

"I know, too bad there's that rule. But Liverpool isn't that far away, and I am coming home for the November bank holiday", she said.

"Which will only make the reunion sweeter", he teased as they both laughed and he led her back inside.


	12. Chapter 12

"Too bad we can't go inside our childhood home, but Scarborough is lovely. The views from the promenade are smashing and on a clear day you can see parts of the Dales", said Ian as Skye got in the driver's side of the Morris.

"Yes, we lived there until we got our jobs in Manchester and our parents moved to France. The Bronte sisters went there on holiday and Anne died there since she died of tuberculosis, you can see her grave in the cemetery", said Ian.

"How awful, I imagine in those days Yorkshire wasn't the healthiest place", said Olga.

"It wasn't, we have a rubbish climate and back then people didn't know if proper sanitation or germ theory. If you want, we could go to Haworth later, the Bronte's home. The road goes though the Dales", said Skye.

"Let's see how much time we have, hopefully it stays sunny all day so the family enjoys their walk", said Olga.

"And tomorrow's supposed to be sunny, we'll spend the morning hiking and Percy wants to take us to see Newcastle. He's proud to be a Geordie, but the city it really quite nice with the bridges on the Tyne", said Ian.

It was just after dawn as the drove out of the hostel. The sky was tinged orange and the dark blue-black of the night was rapidly giving way, the sun a big orange ball as the sky ranged from orangish-red to dark pink. "We'll get some brekky in Scarborough, the tea and biscuits should hold us until lunch", said Skye.

The darkness of the sky receded as they drove further east to Scarborough, the predawn shadows giving way to morning sun and then vivid blue skies. The heather seemed to burst with vivid pink and purple blooms with green grim as though waking from yesterday's ran as Skye drove the peed limit so they could look. "Scotland has got lovely heather and moors, Yorkshire and Scotland have got the best scenery in the kingdom. Down t'south there's nice places like Cornwall and the Welsh coast, but I prefer up north", said Skye.

"That's the Celtic areas of Britain, t'people are touchy if you call them English", teased Ian.

"I know that, our Dad is English after all", she retorted.

Olga just shook her head at their banter. "Then what do you consider yourself?", she asked.

"British with some pierogis", Skye quipped as Ian laughed.

"I know, we're both English and Polish. I ought to take you to a meeting of the Bialy Orzyl, at the White Eagle Hall. It's a Polish heritage group we get together to eat Polish food and drink vodka. Sometimes they put on dances", said Ian.

"Will they recognize me?" asked Olga.

"I doubt it, you don't look much like you did in the Imperial portraits. As long as you don't put up your hair or wear Edwardian clothes, and since you're supposed to be English, don't let on that you know Russian. Some of the older members know Russian and German, so if anyone speaks Russian don't act like you know any", said Ian.

"I think I'm losing my Russian, I haven't spoken it in months and I'm thinking in English", said Olga ruefully.

"It's for the best, knowing Russian attracts attention since there was a recent scandal where members of Parliament and Cabinet Ministers were actually taking bribes from Soviet spies", said Skye.

"Yeah, and there were two call girls whose clients were Russian spies, the girls had no idea since the blokes spoke English and sounded British. Unfortunately the girls were dragged through the mud when they just had dodgy clients", said Ian.

"What's a call girl?", asked Olga.

"Uh, a nice name for a prostitute", Ian mumbled as Olga blushed and then nodded.

"Okay, I see. So they had bad clients and got in trouble, and none of this was their fault?", she asked.

"Correct. Parliament protects their own", said Skye with a cynical smile.

The clear blue skies continued as they approached Scarborough. From the approach to the town they could see the bay and the flat sandy beach by the bay and the wooden promenade, the waters of the bay and harbor surprisingly blue. Beyond the harbor they could see the gray waters of the North Sea and the stone jetty which protected the beach. Ian made a quick detour to drive past their childhood home on the cliffs overlooking the town. "It's not the biggest town, but there was only the four of us", he said as he stopped in front of the house. It was a modest two-story house made of sturdy gray stone with a brick roof, surrounded by well-kept white rosebushes.

"White roses of course", Olga chuckled.

"We're from Yorkshire, after all", laughed Skye.

Ian parked the car in the public lot and added a few coins to the meter. "We used to go to the promenade all the time as children, and if the weather cooperated we could walk on the beach. Of course up north one is mad to go in the water", laughed Skye.

Olga had to agree since the water looked cold as the spray hit their faces, not very inviting for swimming. The promenade was similar to the one in Morecambe with families and people walking their dogs, the surf crashing onto the flat sand. "There's a great caf near the promenade, let's get some brekky", said Skye.

Olga sipped her tea and immediately felt it chase away the coolness from outside. "Yanks don't know what they're missing, tea wakes you up mild instead of with a jolt like coffee", said Skye as she drank her tea.

"Well, they did dump the tea in their harbor", Ian teased.

"Yanks haven't drank tea since", laughed Skye.

"You're going to have a real Yorkshire coast breakfast, Olivia. North Sea kippers are the best, up in Scotland they're just as good and fresh but Yorkshire kippers are better", said Ian.

"I know, our cousin who's the head of the Sutherlands insists on everyone having kippers for breakfast whenever we visit. We visit our Scottish Sutherland relatives each year in December, they live all the way up in Sutherland county in the Highlands. It's beautiful country, but a long train ride", said Skye.

Olga said nothing. Ian chuckled as h e put an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "And since you're my girl, I'm taking you to Scotland to meet our Sutherland relatives", he said as her blue eyes lit up.

"Mama always said nice things about Scotland", she replied.

"I love Scotland, that's why we both have Scottish names. If we do go to Scotland next year for the bike trip, I want to visit Skye and the islands. It will be a challenge to ride our bikes on the islands, but it would be worth it", said Ian.

"Not in the winter", Skye protested.

"Of course not, Mamucia. When we go to Scotland for the holiday, we take the train, driving in Scotland in the winter is bloody crazy", said Ian.

Olga was surprised when she saw the smoked kipper on her plate. "Trust me, it's good. Much healthier than sausage and bacon", said Skye.

She had to admit the English girl was right as the smoked fish was quite tasty and not greasy like sausage. "I don't have sausages anymore for breakfast", said Skye.

"I don't eat pork or beef any more, pork isn't forbidden in Hinduism but it's frowned upon and of course beef is. It's frowned upon since neither Jews or Muslims eat pork, we figure that if two major religions ban it, something must be wrong with it", said Ian.

"Interesting", Olga mused aloud.

"This is not the time to talk about religion, we're on holiday", Skye reminded him.

"All right, Mamucia. We'll walk for a bit and then drive to Haworth. Hopefully there won't be so many coach tours there", said Ian.

"Haworth is popular with tourists who come by the coach-load. It's the whole idea of the sad, tragic, talented girls from the god-forsaken moors. Their dad was a poor Irish lad who got himself a scholarship to study in England and became a parson, so it wasn't as though the girls got their talent out of nowhere. Someone in the family must have been talented, but I feel bad for Parson Bronte. He outlived his wife and all his children", said Skye.

"I know you don't like the book, but Wuthering Heights is my favorite of the Bronte novels. Catherine should have married Heathcliff and not Edgar, they made everyone around them miserable", said Olga.

"Perhaps, but Catherine was too headstrong and Mr. Earnshaw should have been strict with her, have her raised as a proper lady. And she should have realized that Heathcliff wasn't an appropriate partner, too jealous and bad-tempered", replied Skye.

"You're a Jane and I am a Catherine, Skye. Maybe when you find a partner, you'll be a Catherine", said Olga.

"Perhaps, but I won't lose my mind", said Skye.

After an hour walking along the promenade, the group went back to the car as Ian got in the driver's seat. "Hopefully Haworth won't be overrun by the coaches", he muttered.

Olga was grateful to be riding shotgun in the front seat next to Ian as he drove west towards the West Riding of Yorkshire. They drove away from the coast and inland as they skirted the edge of the North Moors, bypassing York and the twin cities of Leeds and Bradford as the sky turned partially cloudy, blue and gray like patchwork quilt.

The town of Haworth was a wonderful surprise after passing through the dull suburbs of Leeds and Bradford, modern towns with the same sort of ugly, prefab council housing and high-rise buildings. Haworth was nestled in a dale surrounded by moorside cliffs bursting with heather and grass under a mackerel sky, one main street surrounded by buildings of local gray stone. The high street and surrounding gate lanes looked as though they hadn't change since the Victorian era but that was only skin-deep. A large car park held several tour buses and the shops all sold souvenirs or tea and cake, a manicured version of the Brontes' hometown.

"The coach tours only stay at the Parsonage for a bit, the tourists prefer to visit the souvenir shops", said Skye.

"The parsonage itself is rather small and dark, the real thrill is to walk on the nearby moors. The kids would explore the moors and write about it, that's the best part of Wuthering Heights", said Skye.

Ian parked the car in the lot away from the buses. The Bronte parsonage was a short walk uphill as Olga was glad she had worn her hiking boots. The parsonage itself was a two-story yellow stone house with a gray slate roof, cleaned up from its previous neglect. Ian bought them tickets as a tour guide smiled at them. "You can explore on your own, or would you rather wait?", she asked.

"We're good, madam", said Ian.

"I'll show you around, we're very proud of the Bronte sisters since they were Yorkshire lasses, even if their father was Irish and their Mum was from Cornwall. Charlotte was my favorite writer", said Skye.

Ian just shrugged and gave Olga a pretend-helpless look as Skye acted as their tour guide. Olga nodded in understanding as she squeezed his hand as Skye led them on a tour of the house. "It's rather small, but they views are lovely", said Olga as they all went upstairs.

"Yes, I suppose having this sort of view would inspire one to write. The parsonage itself is rather dull, but the moorland is stunning, let's go', said Skye.

"All right, Mamucia", teased Ian.

Olga tried not to laugh. "You're just like Tessa, I suppose every family needs a bossy sister", she said.

"Yes, because someone has to make some things get done", Skye retorted cheerfully.

The sky had turned more blue than gray now as it was almost noon and the sun was overhead. "The Bronte Walk is signposted so you don't get lost, it's easy to get lost out here", said Skye.

There were only a handful of other hikers on the trail as the trio hiked the path. The sky remained as a vivid blue and gray checked sky as they walked the trail, the aroma of heather and grass in the air. Once they climbed the side of the moor cliffs, the views became more stunning, the cliffs of limestone with the grass and heather adding color to the bare stone. Some of the rock formations had odd features and resembled some mythological beasts, especially if one was a child.

"These are nice but the rock formation in the Dales are better. Perhaps another time", said Skye.

"You are so proud of Yorkshire", teased Olga.

"Aye, even if I work on the wrong side of the Pennines I'll always be proud to be from Yorkshire. When I go back to work, I'll have to speak t'Queen's English. Since it's a posh girls school, I have to. But since I'm here in Yorkshire on holiday, I speak Yorkshire", said Skye.

"Same here, especially since many of my students are from other parts of the country. They might not understand me if I spoke with a Yorkshire accent, so I speak the Queen's English during lectures", said Ian.

"Let's go over the next hill and take pictures", said Skye.

Skye was correct since the top of the next hill had a stunning view of Haworth and the surrounding moors and dales. The moorside had heather in bloom with the pink and purple flowers nestled among the green grass and pale buff limestone, the sky above a mix of azure blue and the soft gray of dandelion fluff. A gentle but steady breeze cooled the air and made the flowers and grass sway in the wind, the only sound in the area.

Olga was quiet as she looked down on Haworth from the moorside. The last area where she had seen hillsides and a valley was on the approach from Tobolsk to Ekaterinburg through the Urals. While she did find the route through the Urals to be pretty, the uncertainty of that trip and then the nightmarish scene at the train station soured whatever appreciation of the area, along with being cooped up in that horrid house. But this stunning view of the Yorkshire moors and dales with the town below was absolutely stunning, without the fear and uncertainty of just months earlier.

"It's the best view in England, on t'moors. The area around our Scottish family's castle in Sutherland is just as lovely", said Ian as he put his arms around her waist.

Olga relaxed in his embrace and she sighed when he kissed the top of her head. "It is, the area around Ekaterinburg was pretty and so was much of Siberia, but we were all unsure and scared. I feel at peace here", she whispered.

"You are", he replied simply.


	13. Chapter 13

"This is the last day here at North Moors, so we ought to enjoy it and see the heather one final time", said Ian as he zipped up his jacket.

"I'm glad there's trails, imagine getting lost", said Alexandra in dismay.

"Are your legs bothering you, Mrs. Parker?", he asked.

Alexandra smiled at her eldest daughter's boyfriend, glad that Olga had found such a caring young man and that her three oldest daughters had found loving partners. "No, I'm feeling much better. My sciatica hasn't been bothering us since we got here", she said.

"That's good, I suppose all you needed was some exercise and fresh air", said Pierre.

Maria nodded as she made sure Mollie and Nicole had their boots tied. "You've been feeling so much better lately, Mama. If Tessa could see you", she said.

"They're on their way to the bay", said Pierre as everyone nodded.

Nicholas was glad to see that Alexandra looked better and hadn't had an attack of sciatica in days. Ever since they had arrived in England, Alexandra had gone from the frail, sickly middle-aged woman she had been during their captivity to more like the vibrant, beautiful princess he had married all those years ago. Her hair was still gray at the temples but her blue eyes had regained their former sparkle and she laughed more readily, no longer with the weight of the world on her shoulders. He thanked God everyday that the Sol Duga had found them and brought them to safety in England, to his daughters happy with their partners and Alexei be a happy, normal boy. 

Nicholas had to grin as Alexei crossed his arms and looked on impatiently as Maria made sure the girls were ready for hiking. he knew it was a good sign that Nicole was already fond of her father's new girlfriend and that Maria doted on her stepdaughter, and that Tatiana and Mollie liked each other. Although the girls were adorable and sweet, he knew that he was eager for him and Alexandra to have biological grandchildren.

Olga was eager to get back on the motorbike after having toured in the car yesterday, adjusting the straps of her helmet and sunglasses before getting behind Ian on the bike. Basil was in the lead with Tabitha seated behind him and then Percy next in line, followed by Ian and the other Kingfishers, then the cars. Basil kicked his engine into gear followed by the others as he led the group away from the hostel. In twenty minutes Basil had led them to a car park at the start of the trail as everyone parked. "If you stay on the trail, you'll be all right", said Ian.

Olga made sure tp take in the whole of the moorside around the trail since she was sure she would never see such beauty again. While the area around Haworth was rugged and stunning, the North Moors had a more ethereal, otherworldly beauty. The heather was in full bloom here with the vibrant pink and purple blooms among the green grass and under a clear blue sky looked like a painting, if Constable had ever painted scenes up north instead of East Anglia. The tiny pink and purple blooms appeared to sway gently in the breeze as though waving their hands, the colorful tiny blossoms acting almost like they were happy.

"There's heather in Scotland too and sometimes it's white, the heather down here is pink and purple. Too bad up in Scotland in the winter it snows a lot, but the snow isn't dirty and the train station is only a few minutes away from the castle. yes, the head of the Scottish Sutherlands is an earl with a castle", said Ian with a chuckle.

"I've heard of an Earl of Sutherland, but I didn't realize they were related", she replied.

"The Yorkshire Sutherlands aren't noble, which as well since I'd have to go down t'London and sit in the House of Lords. They don't do anything, the House of Commons actually has the power since the MP's are elected. Not that they do anything", Ian quipped.

"This is not the time to talk politics, but do women vote?", she asked.

"Yes, since 1926. You have to be a British citizen and over 21, Skye can get you a form to fill out and they'll send you a voting card you show at the poling place", said Ian.

The trail led from the car park up to the moors from the hillsides, the path a pale brown clearance through the heather. "This reminds me of the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy and her companions took a shortcut through the poppies. Except we won't fall asleep", he laughed.

"And a house didn't fall on a witch. But when we first found out we were in England, it did feel like we were in Oz. We read the Oz books by Mr. Baum", said Olga.

"There was a famous film about the Wizard of Oz back in 1939, it shows at the cinema once in a while. The parts with Dorothy in Kansas were in black and white and Oz was in color, glorious vivid Technicolor. I saw it for the first time as a lad at Uncle Marcel's cinema and it's been one of my favorite films ever since. I wanted to get swept off to Oz as a child, but not the witch's castle with the flying monkeys", he laughed.

Olga was glad the group was taking their time hiking as she and Ian walked side by side. "As long as we stay on the trail, we'll be fine. The path just leads back to the car park, and one isn't supposed to go tramping through the heather", he explained.

The group continued hiking for the rest of the morning before deciding to turn back. "After lunch, I want to visit Durham, it's only an hour from here. Just tell your folks", said Percy.

Olga was excited to visit another different part of England. "I thought Scorpios can control their emotions", Ian teased.

"Yes, but this particular Scorpio has never been to Durham before", she laughed.

"We could stay overnight at the dorms in the uni if the weather gets bad, we'll just phone the front desk. Durham is lovely, it's where I got my doctorate. The cathedral is the oldest and largest in England, it dates back to Anglo-Saxon times, Bede and St. Cuthbert are buried there. There's also a brilliant archaeology museum and an Oriental museum, plus the castle isn't bad either", he said.

"Just be careful, Olivia. And is the dorm a proper place for a young lady?", asked Nicholas. 

"Yes, each room has bunk beds or separate beds, they're too small for two people. And we're going along with Basil, Tabitha and Percy", said Ian as Nicholas and Alexandra looked relieved.


	14. Chapter 14

I caught second wind with this story and finished over the last few weeks, hope you like.

"Have a safe trip, Olivia", said Alexandra as her and Nicholas embraced their eldest daughter.

"I will, Mama and Papa", said Olga.

Ian took their bags and placed them in the trunk of the cab. "Maybe one day we can all go", he said.

"That's everything, we'll cable when we arrive, Mr. and Mrs. Parker", said Skye.

"Good. Have a safe trip", said Nicholas.

The cab ride to Manchester Piccadilly was quiet but tense with anticipation as this was the first part of their trip to Scotland. The streets were freshly cleaned of the snow which fell two days ago, slowly turning grey and slushy from car exhaust and urban dirt. The skies above were were a dull gunmetal grey that appeared like one giant cloud overhead, promising more snow to come in the evening.

Ian paid the driver and helped the him take out their bags and place them on the trolley. The station was quiet except for a few commuters since it was the week before Christmas, the holiday rush a week away. As a result, the announcements and canned music over the PA seemed to echo loudly in the station, the squawks from the boxes unintelligible as always. A crowd had gathered at their platform as the passengers anxiously looked at the printed timetable and the the clock overhead. Everyone relaxed when they heard the train whistle as it slowly pulled into the station.

"We'll reach Edinburgh in four hours, and Inverness in the evening. Hopefully you'll enjoy your first trip to Scotland", laughed Ian.

"I will, it's another foreign country to visit. And I must send a postcard to Mama and Papa", said Olga.

The passengers boarded the train as porters loaded bags into the luggage car in the back. Fifteen minutes later, the train gave one final hoot and slowly pulled out of the station. Olga was disappointed that the train ran through many dull suburbs and mill towns on its way north as Ian smiled in understanding. "Lancashire scenery is dull until one reaches Cumbria, the train goes through the Lake District and then the border. Just wait", he said.

Olga agreed when an hour later the train entered the eastern edge of the Lake District and they could see the famous hills and lakes through the trees. The sky had cleared slightly and patches of blue peered out from under the grey, shining on the still waters. "We went to the Lake District two summers ago, we got lucky and it didn't rain much", said Ian.

"Aye, and we only had wear our Wellies for two days. We climbed up Scafell Pike and the view is smashing. Only Yorkshire has better scenery", said Skye.

"Of course, Yorkshire has the best everything", teased Olga.

"Yes, we're God's Own Country. But t'North has better scenery than anything down t'South. Kent is boring and the Cotswolds are like chocolate box villages, all twee and cute. I don't believe people actually live there", sad Skye.

"Yeah, just posh people with dodgy titles", Ian agreed.

Not long after leaving the Lake District, the train made its final two English stops at Penrith and Carlisle in Cumbria. Barely twenty minutes later after leaving Carlisle, the train passed a short bridge over the Solway Firth and arrived in Scotland. On the other side of the bridge was a sign with the Scottish saltire which read Welcome to Scotland-Failte gu Alba. "Another foreign country to check off your list", Ian teased as Olga laughed.

The train made its steady way northeast towards Edinburgh as the border region spread out before them. The flat pastures and gently rolling hill covered in snow with little country towns and abbeys gave no clue to the region's bloodthirsty past, the scenery just like out of a postcard. "This is Reiver country, before the Act of Union this was a lawless place. Clans would fight each other and carry off people and livestock, English against Scottish. But the Border people had more in common with each other than with people in London or Edinburgh", Skye explained.

"Like Cossacks", said Olga.

"Sort of, except in a smaller area. They used to raid all the way down to Yorkshire at times. In the Middle Ages, our ancestor James Sutherland was granted land on the border of the North Riding and Durham by James Stuart III to protect Middlesbrough from reivers", said Skye.

"She's our family historian, at least in the Yorkshire line", said Ian.

"We have both Scottish and English heritage on Dad's side, you know", laughed Skye.

"Of course. But we're not that English, that's English people down t'South", said Ian.

"Too bad we can't see anything in Edinburgh, we barely got an hour", said Skye as the train stopped at the Edinburgh station.

"Yes, it is a wonderful city to explore and too bad Mary Stuart was a silly girl", teased Ian.

"If she hadn't married Darnley, she would have been a brilliant queen, and then she would have gotten rid of Knox. He had no right to speak to her that way, she was an anointed queen", said Skye. 

"The church was corrupt, Cardinal Beaton was super rich and had all those bastards", said Ian.

"Then the royal family should have confiscated his wealth since he wasn't living up to his vows", she retorted.

"Do you two take the mickey out of each other for everything?", teased Olga.

"Of course, we're British", Ian quipped.

The trio went to the station canteen and had a cup of tea while they waited for the next train. "It's supposed to snow by Golspie tomorrow night, but we'll be there in the afternoon. The area around the castle is smashing when it snows", said Ian.

"It is, it just rains a lot much of England during the winter. Scotland is the best place to see snow in Britain during the winter", said Skye.

"I grew up seeing lots of snow, it will take a lot to impress me", teased Olga.

"Of course, but the area has impressive snows", said Ian.

They finished their tea and boarded the train to Inverness. Within half an hour, the train had left the city and its suburbs behind as it made its way north. Barely an hour after leaving Edinburgh, the train passed into the southern Highlands as the terrain grew more rugged. The ground was a brilliant white from yesterday's snow and the sky above was a pale blue-gray which would herald new snow on the way, a faint blobby sun shining thin watery light onto the snow. 

Olga forgot interest in her book as she watched the scenery pass by, the area reminding her of the area by Tsarkoe Selo. The snow banks around the train were dazzling white without any prints to mar their surface and the trees had their bare branches heavily laden with snow, the watery sunlight glinting off innumerable snow crystals. While the train did stop at a few of the larger stations on the way, the route mostly passed through pristine wilderness of low mountains at the foothills of the Grampians and the accompanying forests nearly devoid of people. In spite of the empty landscape, Olga felt at ease since she knew where they were heading and she was with Ian and Skye. A sudden blush formed on her cheeks when she looked forward to her and Ian having their own room at the castle, after having lived in a dorm room at the university.

"Inverness is a charming town, we cold walk around a bit after we check in", said Skye as the train pulled into the station.

"Yeah, it's not crowded like in t'summer. That's when t'tourists go to Loch Ness to see the monster", said Ian.

"What monster?", asked Olga.

"Supposedly there's a giant monster living in Loch Ness, there's a dodgy picture of the creature but it's hard to tell. No one's actually seen it up close", Ian explained.

"I hope people don't bother the poor creature. It could be a dinosaur or a creature that survived the flood", said Olga.

"Who knows? But it does bring in a lot of tourist money", said Skye.

"We always stay here on the way to Golspie, it's lovely", said Skye as they walked down the street to the Royal Highland hotel from the train station.

"Yes, I'm ready to take a nap", said Ian as Olga nodded.

"You're a lazy bastard, Ian. But I suppose you have to use that big brain of yours", teased Skye.

Olga was impressed by the handsome Georgian building made of buff-colored stone and its elegant lobby of polished bronze and glass fixtures with potted ferns providing a contrast. Ian went up the front desk and spoke to the clerk before getting their keys. "We got a double, one single bed and a larger one. It's more efficient", he said.

Olga hid her disappointment at sharing a room, since she and Ian hadn't shared a room since she'd gone home for the November bank holiday. Ian gave her a reassuring smile as he led them towards the elevator and the operator pressed the button to open the door. He put an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, his green eyes knowing as Olga smiled back


	15. Chapter 15

After dropping off their bags, the trio went back outside to walk. It was still cold and gray as a few scattered snow flurries circled down from the cloudy blue-gray sky but in their coats and hats they felt quite warm. "It's bloody cold but we're Northerners, people down t'south can't handle it", said Ian.

"This is nothing compared to what we've experienced during the winter", chuckled Olga.

"Of course, and Poland too according to Babcia. I guess you could say we all have cold weather genes", joked Skye as they all laughed. 

Olga was glad to see snow and gray skies since it reminded her of Russia, even the thin, watery sunlight from the faint sun providing nostalgia. She felt warm in her heavy shearling coat with wool mittens her black fur hat, even though she missed her Russian ushanka. But Skye had told her than an ushanka would stand out as it was seen as a Russian hat, so she had gotten the round fur hat instead. 

The river Ness which flowed through the city was frozen solid as children skated on its glassy surface. While many of the younger children were awkward and flopped about, some of the older children and adults were more skilled as they executed athletic leaps and turns in the air. On another part of the river older boys played hockey as a group of boys in blue sweaters whooped when they scored a goal past the keeper. "Scots normally play curling but Canadian troops during the war introduced ice hockey. Curling is bloody dull, hockey is better", said Ian.

"It's dangerous, the Montreal Lacroix are big supporters and it's ghastly", said Skye with a frown.

"One branch of the Lacroix lives in Quebec, in Montreal. It's a lovely city and if one speaks good French, the locals are friendly. Otherwise, they're wankers", said Ian.

"I speak French, but I'm afraid it's rusty. Other than the summer holiday, I haven't been able to use it", said Olga.

"Same here, us Brits are rubbish at languages. But the shoe is on the other foot, we're English up in Scotland and the accent is hard to understand", said Skye.

"I know, but our cousins speak the Queen's English like all posh wankers", laughed Ian.

"And we both talk posh at work", Skye reminded him.

"Aye, imagine teaching a class on Hellenistic Greece speaking like a bumpkin from t'moors", joked Ian. 

The trio watched the skaters and hockey players for a bit. Olga looked out onto the frozen river and remembered skating on the ponds and lakes at Tsarkoe Selo, bundled up in furs and skating on the glassy surfaces. She recalled hearing music in her head and trying to dance on the ice, only to awkwardly flop about like a beached fish. She imagined that other young people around Russia had gone ice skating, or played sports on the ice far beyond the gates of Tsarkoe Selo. During their time in Tobolsk, she and her siblings had watched from the upper floor windows as children and teenagers had walked past the house to a pond in the distance with their skates slung over their shoulders. She remembered the crestfallen look on Anastasia's face when the guards told them they couldn't go to the pond to skate, nor to the Lenten carnival in March. Olga wondered if the Sutherland's castle had a pond for skating. "We used to skate on a pond during the winter in Scarborough, but Manchester is too damp and rainy for that. There's an indoor skating rink, but it's not the same", said Skye.

"Is there a pond for skating at the castle?", asked Olga.

"Yeah, and a small indoor rink. Alasdair's daughters are figure skaters so he built the rink for them. Maybe you can borrow a pair of skates", said Ian.

"Hmph, or buy a good pair. There's a skate shop down t'street. I packed my own", said Skye.

She led them to a shop which sold winter sports gear. "Aye, canna help ye?", asked the middle aged woman behind the counter.

"I would like to see some ice skates, madam", said Olga.

"Ah, a Sassenach. But you are pretty and polite, 'tis good. Our ladies' skates are over here, just let me know if you need help", she said.

"How good are you at skating?", asked Skye.

"I was all right, I did fall down on my bum a lot", said Olga with a laugh.

"Oh dear, that makes two of us. I suppose you ought to get regular skates, the white frilly ones are for professionals. Just start with the plain ones", said Skye.

Olga nodded in agreement as she removed her boots and tried on several pairs in her size. She chose a pair of plain black skates which felt comfortable on her feet as she put her boots back on and took the box to the counter. "Have a nice day, miss", said the lady.

The snow still fell in little flurries that slowly made their way down from the gray sky. "If the weather was nicer, we could take the bus out to Culloden. The Sutherlands never got involved with the Bonnie Prince, it was a bad idea from the start. The German wankers were on the throne to stay and the Lowlanders had no interest in another Stuart being on the throne", said Ian.

"The Scottish branch had the sense to stay out of that, which is why they still have the earldom and the castle", added Skye.

"But you thought Mary Stuart was a good queen", Olga reminded her.

"She was, but when James became king of both that was the end. And James Stuart was a bad king, an eejit. He alienated so many people and used mercenaries, that annoys a lot of folks. Bonnie Prince was a pipe dream, but being both Yorkshire and Polish cures one of such ideas", said Skye with a laugh.

"I see. Then the Sutherlands are a wise family", said Olga.

"Plus the earl knew it wasn't going to end well, we try to stay out of politics and controversy. He had no use for the German bastards but knew better than to rebel against one's king, he liked keeping his head. We do our duty for country, but we don't do stupid things", said Ian.

"That's why the Lithuanian branch of the Jarvinens fled to Sweden when it was annexed by the Soviets. If the bastards knew, it would lead to catastrophe. Which is why we try to stay anonymous, we don't seek fame", said Skye.

"Which is why my books sell a few hundred copies to odd, smart wankers. And Jack doesn't do interviews that mention his private life, we try to stay under the radar", said Ian.

"Very good idea. I suppose no one in the family will be a movie star or run for Parliament", laughed Olga

"Hah, of course not. Movie stars are a barmy lot and politicians are a bunch of lying bastards", said Skye.

The snow started to come down heavier as they decided to go back to the hotel. After dropping off their winter gear in the room, the trio went back downstairs to the tea room. A waiter led them to a table and Ian ordered a pot of tea and a plate of scones with jam and cream. "This will hold us until supper", he said.

"I wonder if one can find a samovar in Britain", said Olga.

"Probably not, everyone uses a kettle. I would add butter to my tea but its difficult to find clarified butter in Britain. That's how people in northern India and Tibet drink theirs", said Ian.

"It's for the best, that has too much fat", said Skye.

A waitress poured them each a cup of tea into delicate porcelain cups. Olga wondered if she could put jam in hers but decided it would look too odd, so she added a slice of lemon and one lump of sugar to hers. She glanced out the window and frowned when she saw the snow coming down harder. "The weather report forecast in the papers that the snow ends tonight, by morning the rails will be cleared. The train services little towns in the eastern Highlands so if the train didn't pass, a lot of people will get stranded", said Ian.

"I was just concerned, I'm not familiar with this area. I'm not sure how bad winters are in Scotland", said Olga.

"They're colder than in England, but we have cold weather genes", said Skye as they all laughed.

Olga finished her tea and watched as the snow fell. Unlike this time last year at Tobolsk, the falling snow was comforting and familiar. She recalled the never-ending snow and sub-zero temperatures of Siberia, the furnace that barely worked, and wearing up to five layers of clothes just be inside. At night the worthless stove and her fur blankets did nothing to stave off the cold as she began to think that hell might be freezing instead of baking. But now after having a cup of tea and a warm scone inside the hotel tea room, the snow outside was comforting and familiar instead of a figment of unknown terror.

"Maybe at the castle we can go hiking in the snow, we have sturdy boots. Plus the view from either the towers or the hills is stunning", said Skye.

"Perhaps, I'm not afraid of this snow like last year", Olga murmured.

"It isn't, it's the snow of hope and possibilities", said Ian with a smile.


	16. Chapter 16

Olga sighed with relief when their train arrived on time on the platform for the last leg of their trip. "The weather forecast was correct for a change, and the train is on time. The western Highlands have best views in Scotland but the eastern Highlands are no slouch either, the further north one goes in Britain, the better the scenery", said Ian.

"By that standard, Shetland must have the best scenery in the UK", teased Olga.

"Shetland is stunning, I agree. Not to mention the Viking culture is something different from the rest of the country, it was part of Norway until 1464", said Skye.

"Our Sutherland ancestors were originally Norwegian Vikings who settled in northern Scotland, Sutherland is the corrupted form of Sudrland in Norwegian. Many people in Sutherland and Caithness, the northern Hebrides and the Orkneys and Shetlands are of mostly Viking descent. You'll see it when we arrive at the castle", said Ian.

They boarded the train and within a few minutes the train had left the station and Inverness behind. The train skirted the edge of Loch Ness before heading inland towards the mountains, the bare branches of deciduous trees and the evergreen needles of pine trees gleaming with their mantles of snow. When the sunlight hit the snow on the trees at the right angles, the tiny snow crystals twinkled like the facets of finely cut diamonds. The effect under the cloudless blue sky was stunning, perfect for a landscape painting.

The last leg of the trip was by far the most stunning as the train hugged the coast of Sutherland county. To their right they could see the flat, glassy expanse of the North Sea as the dark blue gray water turned into pounding surf. Big waves of icy water relentless pounded the gray shore, with only a few small harbors for fishing boats along the coastline. While the pine hills to the west and the rough, frigid North Sea to the east, the area had a primal, earthy quality so far from the civilized and calm areas to the south as to be on another planet.

The train made stop at Golspie and the trio were greeted by a uniformed driver who held open the door to a Land Rover. "It's too snowy for the Rolls", said Ian as he helped the women inside the vehicle.

Barely five minutes later, the Land Rover stopped in front of Sutherland Castle as Olga smiled in delight. The castle was a handsome building of grayish-white stone at least five stories high and each corner topped by a painted blue cupola, the Scottish saltire and the Sutherland coat of arms flag flying from opposite towers. The castle was perched on a slight rise which overlooked a large expanse of ornamental gardens, whose flower beds were now fallow because of winter.

The uniformed butler in a black tuxedo and a kilt in the blue and green Sutherland tartan greeted them and led them inside. "The earl is in his office, you may rest until lunch is served", he said with an impeccable Oxbridge accent.

"Thank you, Mr. Moray", said Ian.

Mr. Moray whistled and two teenage boys in Sutherland livery took their bags and motioned for the trio to follow. "After lunch, Alasdair will give you the tour. We're familiar with the castle, but it's always fun to hear him talk", said Ian.

"The rest of the clan will start arriving soon, just remember your room number. The castle has over a hundred rooms", said Skye.

Although she had spent much of her life at the Alexander Palace and her family's various palaces at Tsarkoe Selo and throughout the empire, Olga was impressed by Sutherland castle. The numerous windows let in sunlight and had wonderful views of the gardens on side, the interiors done in the blue and green of Sutherland tartan with varying shades, combined with the neo-classical style of Robert Adam. "Robert Adam's son did the interiors, it cost a pretty penny but it was worth it", Ian explained.

Olga nodded, the style reminded her of the Catherine or the Winter Palace but warmer and lived in. Unlike those palaces, Sutherland castle didn't feel cold and massive. Somehow she could sense that people lived here, that it was used for living instead of a museum. The boys showed Skye her room and had Ian and Olga follow them to another wing of the castle. "The single people stay in one wing and the couples in another", he explained.

"But all couples, not just married ones?", she asked.

"All couples. Otherwise people would get lost trying to arrange a tryst", he joked.

Olga laughed. The boys took their bags to a room on the fourth floor. "If you need anything, there's a button under the light switch which connects to the kitchens", said Ian.

Olga entered the room and looked around. The room was the size of a hotel suite and had an enormous oak four-poster bed topped by a silk canopy in Sutherland tartan. The other furniture was made of the same sturdy brown oak and upholstered in blue and green Sutherland tartan but the windows overlooking the North Sea let in plenty of light to prevent it from being gloomy. A door opened to reveal a spacious walk-in closet and another to large bathroom with an enormous green marble tub. "At the Alexander Palace, we slept on camp beds and took cold baths in a silver tub", said Olga.

Ian gave her a disbelieving look. "Really? But your father was worth billions of rubles", he said in shock.

"The Romanovs did not believe in spoiling children, we always slept on camp beds and took cold baths. It helped us become tough when we were in Siberia, I've become soft in this time", she laughed.

"Bloody hell, that's the same thing I did in the army. I am never sleeping on a camp bed or taking a cold shower again", he declared.

"Hah, it toughens you up. And I can't wait to see the rest of the castle", said Olga.

"Surely your family owned some magnificent palaces, the Sutherlands only have this one and the manor in Yorkshire", said Ian.

"We never liked the bigger palaces like the Winter Palace or the Catherine. They were too large and cold, it felt like being inside a museum and it was uncomfortable. The Winter Palace was dreadfully cold and drafty and our family never liked it. We were so worried we'd break something in there. I get the feeling the castle isn't like this", she chuckled.

"It isn't. All the antiques are in the parlours, the third and fourth floors are the bedrooms and the ballroom and dining room are on the first floor. In fact, the castle has lifts", said Ian.

"So did the Alexander, for Mama", she replied.

"Of course, but the lifts here are because climbing up and down stairs can be tedious. Anyways, I'll give you a little tour", said Ian.

Olga made sure to note their room number as Ian took her hand and led her towards the elevator. "The second floor has the portraits and the family antiques, the Sutherlands have lived on a castle on this site since the 1400's. Our family backed the Stuarts in their battles against the Lords of the Isles. They realized the Stuarts weren't people to mess with, plus the Lords of the Isles were such backwards people. For better or worse, the Stuarts represented the future", said Ian.

"Does your family know which side is going to win?", she asked.

Ian pushed the button for the second floor. "The Sutherlands, and all the Sol Duga, have a knack for knowing which side to support. The Sutherlands supported the Stuarts and the Hanoverians, even if we thought following the Bonnie Prince was a good idea, we wouldn't have gone through with it. What matters most of all, is keeping the Sol Duga a secret and for us to help people", said Ian.

The portrait gallery had dark blue walls and a floor carpet in Sutherland green and blue tartan, the windows shielded by matching curtains. Illumination was provided by specially applied incandescent lightbulbs which gave the correct light to make the portraits look their best. "This is the founder of our clan, Bjorn Sudrland, Hugo's son. This portrait is from 15543 since during the tenth century there weren't any portrait painters", Ian explained. The painting showed a tall, handsome blond man with the trademark Sutherland green eyes in Viking armor, wielding a massive sword.

"Wait a minute, where's his helmet?", she asked.

"Vikings didn't actually wear horned helmets, blame that on Wagner. They were plain iron helmets, Wagner invented the horned helmets since he thought they looked more impressive", he replied.

"Interesting, I suppose the helmets might have awkward in battle. Who painted it?", she asked.

"A painter from Inverness, Sir Lachlan Ross. We never used English painters, too expensive and we wanted to promote local artists. All the paintings here are done by local artists", he said as he showed her more portraits. 

Olga followed Ian and listened as he pointed each Sutherland portrait. She understood the pride in his voice when he spoke of his father's people and knew he would equally proud of his mother's people, mentally cursing the Bolsheviks for destroying the Jablonski manor house. "There is a definite resemblance in all the Sutherlands", she said.

"Yes, the Sutherlands either have both the hair and eyes or one of them. It's a Sol Duga thing, so we can identify each other", he said.

"But what if a Sutherland has say, black hair and brown eyes? Or is another race?", she asked.

"No to the first, yes to the second My cousin William of the Scottish Sutherlands is married to a Chinese woman from Singapore, Chinhua. Their daughters Jinghua and Meizhan have black hair but green eyes, they're twins. Unfortunately, William and Chinhua couldn't have any more children, but the twins are going to university in Edinburgh. They're coming up later and should be here tonight, their parents are flying in from Singapore later in the week", said Ian.

"Fascinating, I'm afraid I don't know any Chinese", said Olga apologetically.

"The girls can speak Cantonese, the Southern Chinese language but they do speak excellent English. Jack knows Cantonese, I don't. Most Chinese immigrants to Britain are from Cantonese speaking areas, so it could be useful to know. But that's for Jack to know, since East Asia is his major interest. Which is why Hugo chose him for this mission, I don't know either Chinese or Japanese or their culture", he laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

Ian led Olga downstairs and he smiled in delight when he saw the twin Eurasian women. "We were just talking about you two", he teased.

"The Sol Duga genes must be strong", joked Blossom Sutherland.

"How are you liking Britain, Miss Parker", said her twin sister Pearl.

"I love Britain, it was Papa's dream to retire in England, he never wanted to be tsar, Miss Sutherland", replied Olga.

"I'm Blossom, but my Chinese name is Jinhua", said Blossom.

"And I'm Pearl, my Chinese name is Meihuan", said Pearl.

"Our English names are for professional reasons, it's common among Chinese British people", explained Blossom.

"Well, I got by Olivia for practical reasons so I understand. What do you prefer to be called?", asked Olga.

"Our English names, our parents use our Chinese names, plus people have trouble pronouncing them", said Blossom.

"All right, so it's Blossom and Pearl. And you can call me Olivia", said Olga.

Ian and Olga showed the twins to their rooms on the third floor. "I would have invited my boyfriend but we've only been dating for two months, plus he's going back to Ireland for Christmas", said Blossom.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you both going to university?", asked Olga.

"Yes, we're both attending the University of Edinburgh. I'm studying law and Pearl is studying to be a gynecologist", said Blossom.

"Fascinating, a lawyer and a doctor in the family", teased Olga.

"Our Mum is a gynocologist and Dad is a lawyer, we're following in the family footsteps. Just because we're women doesn't mean we're going to uni to find husbands", said Pearl defensively.

"I'm sorry if I caused offense, it's just that the uni at Liverpool in the medical and law schools are virtually all male. I'm studying history", said Olga.

"No worries, we get a lot of odd comments. People ask if I'm going to be a legal secretary", said Blossom with a frown.

"That's ignorant. Anyone ought to study what they like", said Olga in dismay.

The twins dropped off the bags and walked over to Skye's room. "I'm glad to see you two, when are your parents coming?", she asked.

"Next week, it's so bloody long from Singapore. And how's it dealing with the little buggers at school?", teased Blossom.

"Dull, just scraped knees and tummy aches. But it keeps me under the radar", said Skye.

"Too bad you couldn't go to a proper medical school and study surgery", said Pearl.

"Yes, but it attracts too much attention, like being a bloody unicorn", Skye grumbled.

"Unfortunately, being a female surgeon makes the bloody news since apparently they're as rare as unicorns. We try not to attract attention", Pearl explained.

"Really, but I sort of understand. At the Red Cross hospital, our family was horrified that Tatiana and Mama were assisting in surgery, seeing men all bloody and injured from the war. And the press thought it was amazing and horrifying that a Grand Duchess and a Tsarina were involved in such bloody things", said Olga with a sigh.

"Things haven't changed much, which is why I'm studying gynocology and obstetrics, there's a lot of women in that field and it doesn't attract attention", said Pearl.

"Maybe in the future I'll go back to uni and study that, it has to be more interesting than being a bloody school nurse", said Skye.

The group went downstairs to the parlor where the head of the Scottish Sutherlands Alasdair Sutherland, Earl of Dunrobin, met them. He was an imposing man at over six feet tall and dressed in the blue and green Sutherland tartan and kilt, the plaid draped over his shoulder and held in place by a broach in the shape of a lion's head with the clan's motto Sans Peur. His short dark blond hair was turning gray at the temples and his green eyes were sharp and intelligent, his back ramrod straight. "I'm sorry, I was busy with paperwork. Miss Parker, I hope you are enjoying Britain with your family", he said in a deep voice with an Oxbridge English accent.

"We are, Your Grace", she replied.

"Please call me Alasdair, Miss Parker. I hate being addressed by the English way, I avoid going further south than Yorkshire", he said.

"Same here, but if one is traveling out of t'country one needs to go t'London Heathrow. There ought to be more airports in the country", said Ian.

"The rest of the Sutherlands are to start trickling in within the next few days since our clan is scattered throughout the world", said Alasdair as he led them to the dining room.

Olga hoped more people would show up since she estimated that the dining room could hold more than a hundred people. "It holds 120 people, and we only use the salt to separate the children so they don't make a mess in front of the adults, and so the servants can give them different food", Ian explained.

Everyone sat together near Alasdair at the head of the table as the servants poured everyone a glass of white wine. "Lunch is the main mean here, it isn't good to eat a big meal in the evening", he said.

"I know, the Mediterranean people are correct about that. Unfortunately, us Brits haven't learned", said Skye with a laugh.

"Alasdair, are Neville and Amelia coming here?", asked Ian.

"Perhaps, if their mission is resolved", said Alasdair as the servants served the soup course.

Olga waited until the servants left. "Don't worry, when we're speaking about Sol Duga business, it sounds like we're speaking Greek. So they think we're speaking Greek", said Alasdair.

"Do you really speak Greek?", she asked

"Yes, both kinds", he replied.

"But what if someone can speak Greek?", asked Olga.

"Then it sounds as though we are talking about the weather or gossip. We do try to plan for contingencies", said Alasdair.

"I tell Alasdair we ought to use Elvish since it's a made-up language", teased Skye.

"But there's no real Elvish dictionary with a codified grammar, it has to be a real language. And Greek is an actual language", chided Alasdair.

"What sort of mission is that?", asked Olga.

"They're actually in Babylon, at Alexander's court. Neville is an expert on Babylon and he is writing a book on the city during the Persian empire and in later times. Him and his wife Amelia are among the thousands in the court", said Ian.

"Amazing. But aren't they supposed to help?", asked Olga.

"Yes, here and there. But if further help is necessary, Hugo will let us know", said Ian.

The group finished lunch as the servants cleared the table. "I'll take you on a little tour for Miss Parker's sake. I'm sure your family had impressive palaces, I'm afraid if the castle doesn't quite measure up", said Alasdair.

"Ian already showed me the portrait gallery, but I would like to see more of the castle. And what I've seen I liked so far, some of our palaces were very cold and we felt uncomfortable living in a museum. Your castle feels very warm and lived-in", said Olga.

"I try to make the castle feel like a home, I want our home to be comfortable. Follow me", he said.


End file.
